December 11 2012

1. Oh dear sweet crickets, Yuletide is due in nine days. /o\

2. I watched The Dark Knight Rises yesterday. I was strongly reminded of No Man’s Land, the epic Gotham City comic book crossover event of some years back. I own all of the trade collections of that story, as well as the Greg-Rucka-penned novelization. I have very mixed feelings about No Man’s Land, summed up thusly:

I love every part of that story that is about Helena, Babs, Cass, Dick, Renee, Harvey, Ivy, Harley, Joker, Jim, the GCPD, and the citizens of Gotham.

I detest every part of that story that has Batman in it.

In fact, No Man’s Land is one of the cornerstones of my Bruce-Wayne-Batman hatred. Watching TDKR, I enjoyed all the parts with Jim, Selina, the GCPD, and the people of Gotham. I checked Twitter and Tumblr every time Bruce Wayne was on the screen without Selina or Alfred. And, oh, man. Tom Hardy’s voice? That was so far from how I ever imagined Bane to sound, ever, that I giggled every time he talked.

I think it’s safe to say I did not like this movie. But it reminded me that I should go re-read No Man’s Land. Or, at least, all the parts without Batman.

3. Points 2 and 1 are not related. To wit, I am not writing Batman for Yuletide.

4. But I had better go work on writing Yuletide. So enough blogging for now!

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Greg Rucka’s Alpha

Greg Rucka’s latest book, Alpha, is what I hope will be the first in a series of books about a new character, Jad Bell. The premise, like those of most Rucka books, is deceitfully straightforward. Bell, a military man of some ambiguous nature, is hired to protect an amusement park from a vague terrorist threat.

Complications ensue.

That premise tells you nothing about the twists and turns the plot take, the crosses and double crosses. It tells you nothing about the supporting characters and their roles in said plot. I will summarize by saying that there is not a single moment in this book where I felt lost, nor a single moment where I felt I could safely put the book down. That’s a hard line to ride in an action-packed novel. I’m not at all surprised to see Rucka do it again.

If you like smart, intelligently-written, real-world-style action stories about military dudes vs. terrorists, you should already be reading this book. It’s a shoo-in, a perfect fit. You will love it.

But there is so much more to Rucka’s writing. So much that is rewarding, so much depth and emotional truth.

The secret about Rucka’s work, the secret which isn’t a secret at all and which he tells people at every opportunity, is that he thinks all of his characters are people. Every twist and turn in Alpha is a result of thoughtful character-driven action. The people in his books want things, they fear things, they have agency. The plot is the result of that agency.

I read an interview recently with Elizabeth Bear about her new novel, Range of Ghosts. She was asked about something, and I don’t recall the question, but in response she explains that one of the bravest moments in the book is when a princess — not a lead character, not so far — decides to leave her home in the night. She is barefoot, she is terribly young, she is heavily pregnant.

This may seem an odd choice of bravery, in a book that features warriors and wizards. But warriors and wizards are trained to deal with moments of extreme danger or decision. They have planned and prepared. A teenage princess, faced with this situation, is making it all up as she goes. It’s the human, everyday bravery that makes me pause, that chokes me up a bit.

All through history, normal, everyday people have had to flee when bad things happened. We deal with it and move on, or we don’t. And we are remembered for what we did, either way.

There is a scene, in Alpha. The bad things have already started, and Jad is running across the amusement park to deal with events. On the way he encounters Lilac and three kids. Lilac is the name of a character at the amusement park. She is played by a pool of young women, eighteen-to-twenty-two years old, perhaps. Cheerleaders and gymnasts, we’ve been told earlier, who can act and who never lose their temper or break character.

Horrible things are in progress, and Lilac is escorting the three kids to safety. In the scene that follows, she is smart, she is decisive, and she never breaks character. Neither Bell nor the reader ever learn her name. She remains Lilac the meerkat, the heart of the Flower Sisters.

This is a bit-part, a scene midway through the book. Yet the essential humanity and agency of this character is the most important thing in the scene. Yes there is action, guns, whatever. Without us caring about Lilac, we have a pedestrian moment of good guys and bad guys and, oh noes, wee kids in danger, yawn. With Lilac, we have Jad and her — two human beings in terrible circumstances who must trust each other and make insanely smart decisions without enough data, with human life on the line.

That scene captures, for me, why I read every Greg Rucka book, comic, interview, or pamphlet I can find. He never, ever forgets that he is writing about people. Good guys, bad guys, muddling-along middling guys who just want to go home, they are all comprehensibly human. That is a rare, fine, incandescent thing, that Rucka does. It is always worth your time and money.

The fact that the plots barrel along is purely a bonus.

Normally, I would end a blog post like this with an explanation of who I think would like the book, and who it’s not for. But I think everyone should give Rucka’s work a chance, even if — especially if — you think it’s not a genre you typically enjoy, or it sounds like it might not be for you. Try it, try one, give it a shot. Fistful of Rain is about an alcoholic rock star and some blackmail. Keeper is about a bodyguard. Batman No Man’s Land is about Barbara Gordon, aka Oracle. Or go ahead and jump in with this latest book, the one I devoutly hope will start another series, Alpha.

Go on, give it a shot. You won’t be bored.

Greg Rucka is still amazing.

I am not a big reader of crime fiction, or thrillers, or spy books. Sure, I’ve read some. I’ve read and watched a lot of classic noir, I own the works of Laurie King, I like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot (classic mysteries, not crime books, I know.) I could, if pressed, name some more crime fiction I’ve read. (Devil in a Blue Dress. Um, there are more, I’m sure.) The short of it is, I don’t read a lot of books in which people shoot each other with guns rather than bows, lasers, or superpowers.

Except for the works of Greg Rucka. Him, I read.

On this trip to Chicago I started, read, and finished Walking Dead, an Atticus Kodiak novel I hadn’t gotten to yet. It grabbed me and pulled me in from the first pages, and I wasn’t civilized to talk to until I was done.

I have a handful of authors whose works I turn to year round, at any time, for any reason. Lois Bujold, James Alan Gardner, Tamora Pierce — Greg Rucka is firmly on that list.

Pleasant updates

1. Pages have updated on Denizens! Go check out the start of this webcomic series from me and Chris Doyle! Action, adventure, and drama, all rendered in LEGO figures and sets …

2. I keep seeing negative things floating across my Twitter, or people reacting negatively to things. So, to counter that, here are some great things –

Artist Gabriel Hardman is now signed exclusive to Marvel. This is great — Hardman is an amazing artist, and well deserves the work.

The Batwoman collection, Elegy, by Greg Rucka and J.H. Williams III, is out in hardcover today and omg it is gorgeous. Sort of lickably delectable. Williams sure as heck knows how to work a two-page spread.

My fellow Fantastic Fangirls are all in the most recent issue of Alert Nerd‘s pdf magazine, Grok. Issue #6.

My house is much cleaner than usual.

3. Of course, my house is much cleaner than usual because the kids have been in trouble for two straight days, and when they make my life harder they must make up for it. By providing labor.

Here’s hoping the weekend goes better for them! And for the rest of us ….

Best Moments in Fandom, 2009

8. Paramore in concert (again)

This made my Best in Fandom last year. What can I say? I really like Paramore. This time they opened for No Doubt, and the concert was incredible. The last Big Name, Big Venue concert I’d seen was Depeche Mode in, erm, 1989? And I had lousy seats that time. So the video effects and such of No Doubt were really damn awesome. And Gwen Stefani is astonishing.

My opinion of this tour, though, was unavoidably shaped by Twitter. I’d been reading Hayley Williams’s tweets all summer. I’d read her fangirling of Stefani, and how much she and the band were learning from an experienced band like No Doubt. I’d read which shows were great, and which she felt she could have been more on for. I read what it was like to do interviews in the afternoon, perform at night, and get up in the late morning to work out. I had a sense of investment in this tour, in Hayley’s experience of it — despite that fact that she doesn’t know me from Adam. The Twitter Effect.

But, anyway, when the first opener left and, after a bit, Paramore came out onto their set — much bigger than the year before, much fancier, and still NOTHING like No Doubt’s set still to come — I was willing this to be a great show. I whooped, sang along, hopped up and down, yelled when my section was pointed too, all the antics of a Fan.

No Doubt was also incredibly great. But I was there to see Paramore.

7. Big Finish Productions’ Seventh Doctor audioplays

I spent most of the first few months of 2009 catching up on the Seventh Doctor audioplays of Doctor Who, by Big Finish Productions. And by this I mean I didn’t listen to much music, I didn’t keep up with the podcasts I listen to, I spent my drives to and from work listening to Sylvester McCoy, Sophie Aldred, and Phillip Oliver save worlds. Save worlds, and mete out justice.

It’s fascinating to me, as someone who has come to Doctor Who fandom via the Ninth and Tenth Doctors, to see the Seventh Doctor taking on his role as moral judge. I don’t know exactly when this started in the Doctor’s various incarnations. I just know he didn’t start this way, but is a judge by the time we meet the Tenth Doctor. There seems to be some fascinating differences, though — Seventh Doctor relishes the role of moral authority. Ninth Doctor, we know, had recently seen the horror of that path. Tenth Doctor prefers to give people more chances than Seventh, but is still willing to make the extremely hard choices.

Anyway. I’m loving the evolution of Hex and Ace, their acceptance of The Doctor’s foibles paired with wariness of his secrets and manipulations. I’m loving the way the Doctor’s know-it-all-ness works for both good and ill. I particularly liked “Angel of Scutari” — excellent supporting cast, great plot, excellent acting. More Seventh Doctor from Big Finish is one of the things I am really looking forward to in 2010.

6. Dollhouse

This is not the best show I watch. It is, however, a fannish delight. It is, in the words of my friend Caroline, Big, Sexy Hospital. It’s a show starring lots of my favorite actors from different fandoms, with guest stars from other fandoms, written by some of my favorite writers, talking about important themes of identity and autonomy using inappropriately overly-sexual moments of tension. Plus, funny dialog. The show has not quite lived up to what I hoped it could be — it is definitely flawed. But in exchange for that, I get weirdly inappropriately sexy half-naked scenes where characters HAVE to cut each other FOR THE PLOT.

I feel like Dollhouse is trying to do two things, and the whipsaw between them weakens the show. On the one hand, I love the plot and the things the show is trying to say about autonomy and personal power. On the other hand, I also love the way the show is groping around in the dark of fandom’s collective subconscious, and serving up images from fanfic. River Tam vs. Faith. Wesley and Faith trusting each other knives. Helo and Faith sparring instead of screwing. I have always loved cross-over fanfic, and here it is, on Hulu, every week.

5. Jennifer’s Body

I reviewed the movie Jennifer’s Body here. I loved it. As I say in that review:

“Kusama, Cody, Fox, and Seyfried have put on the screen a movie about a kind of relationship between two women that I have rarely seen in film. That kind of relationship is called “complex”. So many times women’s relationships in film are two-dimensional, caricature, or merely serve as a prop in a movie about men. Not so here. The friendship between Jennifer and Needy is not perfect — they are occasionally thoughtless towards each other, or hurtful, and there’s a wealth of unseen history in the way Jennifer taunts Needy with their past sexual explorations together. But it is friendship.”

I still say this is the absolute best feminist horror film since Gingersnaps. After the no-buying-myself-things-near-Christmas ban passes, I am racing out to get this on dvd.

4. Batwoman, Greg Rucka, and J.H. Williams

In the pages of Detective Comics in the second half of this year, Greg Rucka and J.H. Williams have put out a comic unlike anything else out there. The story of Batwoman, of Kate Kane, is being told in art that is not groundbreaking, it’s genre-changing. Comic art should not be allowed to remain as it has been, now that Williams’s panel structure, narrative sequences, and color palettes have come to light.

But I’m always and forever a sucker for stories.

This story — the story of Kate Kane as Batwoman — is a story about family, and loss, and what a person finds in the world in order to make them get up in the morning. It’s a story about What Happened Next. Being Batwoman, it strikes me, is not Kate Kane’s goal in life. It’s the thing she does with her life after the worst things could happen to her. After she lost her mother and sister and career and relationships. It’s a story about the fact that one doesn’t conveniently die when one loses everything important, however much one might wish it. And, eventually, you get up and out of bed and have to do something. This appears to be Kate Kane’s story, told expertly by Greg Rucka, and it’s one of my favorite fandom things in 2009.

3. Plants vs. Zombies: Bedtime

This is all me, but I’m still damn pleased with what happened.

This summer I wrote a script for a four-page comic. My family was obsessed at the time with the PopCap Games’ “Plants vs. Zombies.” The idea hit me while I was sitting in the audience at the Como Park Bandshell, waiting for J’s dress rehearsal to get started. I wrote a little comic about a kid, about my son’s age, who lives in the house that is attacked by zombies in the game. The story was light and short and cute. The Best Moment in Fandom moments happened next.

What happened next is that PopCap Games agreed to let me produce this work. I emailed them, got reply, explained my project, and then — poof. They said go ahead. So what happened next is that Erika Moen agreed to draw it. Her art was fantastic — perfect for the tone of the story. And what happened next is that my contact at PopCap was so pleased with what he saw that PopCap included the comic in their Halloween promotional materials.

This was one of my personal best moments in fandom, albeit professional fandom.

2. Baltimore Comic-Con

I went to a few conventions this year — Microcon, Wiscon, CONvergence, Supercon. But the one I’d never been to, the one new to me, was Baltimore ComicCon. It was great. Not only did I get to meet all of the Fantastic Fangirls in person, I got to meet and see other friends from online.

But the thing that really, totally made the convention great for me was the generosity and friendliness of the creators. I’m not going to name them all here, for fear I might forget someone. But everyone had time to chat, however briefly. Even those with the biggest names/lines/crowds were extremely generous with their time.

1. Marvel’s consequences

I remember when Secret Wars II was playing out in the pages of Marvel comics. I never actually read the core books, the limited series in which all the heroes of the Marvel Universe tried to deal with The Beyonder come to Earth for a rematch. What I remember is that The Beyonder killed and resurrected the New Mutants. What I remember is that Rachel Summers was going to end the entire universe in order to kill The Beyonder, and that the love and compassion of her fellow X-Men stopped her — and then stopped The Beyonder from killing them all, right there, on the spot. What I remember, from that story and from all my most beloved X-stories from the late 80s and early 90s, is that the world of the Marvel Universe was a whole thing. It was all of a piece. When Kulan Gath (a Spider-Man villain) took over Manhattan Island for a couple weeks, the X-Men were trapped there, as were the Avengers. When two of the New Mutants got drugged by the same guy that attacked Cloak and Dagger, Tandy and Ty were there to help. I loved Mutant Massacre, I loved Fall of the Mutants, I even found Inferno fascinating — though frustrating. I loved the whole world of it all.

I later came to understand that the “world” events in Marvel tended to only apply within certain spheres. The mutant line, the heroes line, the spider-man line, the cosmic line. I grew, in the mid-90s, sick of crossovers that didn’t really affect anything except sales figures. I became disenchanted with the idea of a complete Marvel Universe. But I still remember how it felt, looking at Kitty Pryde in Uncanny X-Men as she mourns the death of her best friend, Illyana, who no-one remembers — wiped from the universe by the petulant thoughts of The Beyonder.

A new world lay in those panels. A complete world, rich and vibrant and alive and whole. And I could visit it any damn time I wanted to.

In recent years, Marvel has put forth a series of “world-changing events.” And I viewed these all with incredible skepticism, due to my feelings regarding the late 90s. But I read them. Avengers: Disassembled was good — I like it a lot. But I was profoundly and unexpectedly pleased when the Avengers stayed apart, the mansion was not rebuilt, and there were extended consequences. The Young Avengers formed. Isiah Bradley’s legacy as the black Captain America was retained and used. Character deaths — whether or not they stayed dead — had repercussions in the paths their friends and families took. And then, a bit later, we had House of M. In which the consequences of Disassembled unfolded to destroy a whole people. House of M was another world-changing crossover event — and we still haven’t seen it taken back. We still haven’t really seen Wanda, and there are still no more mutants. Civil War happened, and The Initiative came out of that. Not to mention Captain America’s death — long live Captain America. Events kept occurring, with consequence piling on consequence. The world of Marvel kept changing as a result of what had happened before. As Secret Invasion was about to launch, I was excited and pleased — this, this was the kind of Marvel storytelling I loved. A world at stake, really, with everybody’s fates on the line.

I wish Secret Invasion had been published as a single trade paperback — or released weekly until it was done. But that’s a quibble. I really liked the story. But more than I liked the actual plot contained in the issues, I liked how it changed the world. I loved Jessica Drew’s face being the face of the enemy, seen around the world. I loved all the “traitors” appearing on television to urge the world to embrace change. I loved the Skrull sleepers popping up in every title. I loved Marvel’s ad campaign – so reminiscent to me of the old “It’s 1984 – Do You Know What Your Children Are?” ads that appeared in the X-Men titles.

More than any of that, though, I loved What Happened Next.

The world changed. And I love Bendis and Marvel for it. The world of Marvel changed. And, sure, it’ll change back. That’s not my point — I don’t want Marvel to stay this way forever. But I want, I crave for the plots in these comics to have some sort of meaning. Repercussions. Consequences. If Norman Osborn saves the planet on international television, I want that to have an effect for more than one month. I want this, the Dark Reign. And then I want the Dark Reign to end as a result of Norman Osborn’s actions. I want his personal consequences to unfold as surely as Wanda’s did.

This current consequence-laden universe at Marvel fills me with joy in all sorts of ways. I love that Kieron Gillen’s S.W.O.R.D. is a result of Astonishing X-Men and Secret Invasion. I love that Jessica Jones shows up in Young Avengers and that the Young Avengers have been scattered into the other Avengers titles. I love that the Silent War of the Inhumans led into War of Kings. The interwoven, interconnectedness of it all makes me damn pleased.

I’m looking forward to The Siege, very much. I am not really invested in the “core Avengers,’ I don’t care much about Steve Rogers or Thor. But I am happily waiting to see what Marvel is going to do next to my beloved, much-abused, living Marvel universe.

Detective Comics #854

I haven’t yet read a thing by Greg Rucka that I didn’t love. Detective Comics #854, aka The One With Batwoman, is no exception.

I love this book.

Now, I want this blog post to be a cogent, articulate review. I want it to be a clear discussion of the text that conveys the high quality of the writing and the shocking brilliance of J.H. Williams’ art. I think I’m going to fail at that. I think I am just going to squeal in delight. But I’ll give it a shot.

The last single issue of comic I re-read four times on the day it came out was Astonishing X-Men #1. I thought, and think, that Joss Whedon’s story and John Cassaday’s art made a near-perfect re-introduction to the X-Men. This 25-issue run is the one I most often recommend to people who want to try out the X-Men. But, let’s be honest, folks — selling me on an X-Men comic really isn’t that hard. For a DC comic to achieve this level of lip-biting, squeal-suppressing glee has not happened prior to this. (Not even the Birds of Prey issues in which Dinah and Barbara declared their eternal love commitment to the partnership.)

Let’s talk about the art. Williams does something that —

Okay, let me interrupt myself. Mr. Rucka? Can we see the script for this issue? Because I deeply want to know who to credit for the sheer genius in panel design.

But let’s say it’s Williams. Williams makes strong, obvious style differences between the scenes about Batwoman and the scenes about Kate Kane. Batwoman’s scenes are not only gorgeously shaded, beautifully hi-lit, and incredibly dynamic, they are all in a panel / border structure that represents Batwoman’s bat-symbol. And the way this is used, and they way the panels are broken, and the sheer energy this structure conveys in the end-of-book fight scene, this is amazing.

Which makes the transition into life as Kate even more fascinating. The Kate panels and scenes are flatter, overlit, harsher and more raw than the shaded, painted nuance of the Batwoman scenes. And that, that my friends is somebody’s genius, because that right there tells us which life the red-headed woman who leads this book prefers. The Kate panels are regular, they are bordered, they are regimented. Except where her other life bleeds into the daylight, and red is not only the color of her hair, but the color of her blood spilling.

People in superhero-land are superheroes because they can’t help it. Because, at the end of the day, they can live with themselves as long as they go out in tights and fight crime. Some, like Dinah Lance and Dick Greyson do it because being a hero makes them feel good. Some, like Barbara Gordon, do it because they really can’t live with being mundane and helpless. Some, like Helena Bertinelli, do it because they can’t stand the other things they inevitably are. Some, like Tim Drake and Renee Montoya, do it because they are good at it. And some do it because it’s the only time they like themselves. Because without a purpose, there’s not really a point to getting up in the morning.

All of which is a complicated way of saying that I look forward to watching Kate try to deal with the fact that she would rather go out and get hurt night after night than talk about her feelings with an attractive woman. Like Kate Bishop over in Marvel’s Young Avengers, at some point you have to ask the character why they choose this? Fear? Anger? Hatred? Self-loathing? I don’t know yet.

This is, to return to my opening lines, Rucka’s forte. Renee Montoya, Tara Chace, Carrie Stetko, Sasha Bordeaux, and Kate Kane are all of an ilk I love. Extremely strong women, competent, skilled, capable, intelligent, and flawed. Not grievously or dramatically flawed, and certainly not in need of rescue, these characters are driven and motivated and in deep need of a good friend. There’s a loneliness they share that makes them compelling fictional characters — while they are solving crimes, engaging in international espionage, and kicking ass they are also observing the world from some internal distance. From within some safety and solitude that has inadvertantly locked themselves away.

This is nowhere near as coherent as I want it to be. And I didn’t even get around to discussing my sheer joy at the scene in Kate’s apartment. Or the villain. Or the supporting cast. Or the backup story, with Renee Montoya as The Question, which is a whole ‘nother realm of love and joy for me. But this is clearly the start of a great, great superhero detective story.

Detective comics, indeed.

You’ll excuse me. I have to go re-read this issue again. How about you buy it, and let me know what you think?