My library ran its traditional Sci-fi/Fantasy Festival over the weekend and I think it was our most successful year yet. I've never had a job that has challenged me creatively to the degree that my library assistant position has, and I truly am fortunate.
As I've neglected my blog throughout the past month, I thought it might be worthwhile to share a little bit of the adventure I've been on, and some of the unique experiences I was able to participate in. To start off, I have to give much credit to my co-worker Krysten. She's been a driving force in the Adult Fiction department, steering us into more programming specifically geared towards the whole nerd community. She also does quite a lot of the thankless grudge work that holds the whole thing together; phone calls to vendors, budgeting, city permits, etc. Three years ago when she got the idea for a one day festival approved, I was one of the hand-picked employees to be brought on board the project. The journey since has been nothing shy of incredible.
So I'll start by bragging about our Youtube videos. Our first one was actually a delayed video from last year, recreating the Doctor Who episode Rose (with a nod to The End of the World), which was my script with Justin's directing. The music cues that Justin added really rescue the spot from my very off the mark Christopher Eccleston impression. The next one was our annual Batman spot with Anthony reprising his role as the Dark Knight (undoubtedly to be a recurring tradition). Madalyn is Harley Quinn, and we have her to thank for how good the costumes look. I think I've officially played the only version of the Joker who serves as Batman's straight man. Last up is The Time Agency, starring Aubrey as the forcibly sincere hostess. I directed that one myself, to serve as an advertisement for our breakout room, which I'll talk more about shortly.
The final bit of pre-festival appearance I made was on Talk of Alabama, and this was my only unhappy memory of the whole process. Let me stress that I have nobody to blame but myself, mainly because I felt useless. Krysten and I went on a local morning show, and I'd prepped myself up for anything: except for the expected. I was ready to be funny. I was ready to bring out filler. The only thing I wasn't ready to do was answer the questions we'd asked them to ask us. Krysten was. She knocked it out of the park. And good for her, this is her brain child, she deserves all the credit. And to be fair, my wife watched the spot and assured me it looked fine. I've no reason to doubt her, but I still feel like I let myself down, and that's a little bit of an ego bruise.
The first program I worked on for this year was our nerd trivia competition. It's styled after Jeopardy! (I call it Red Alert!). This was my second (non-consecutive) year hosting this kind of program. The participants seem to enjoy it to a point, but it's never really felt like a success to me; more of a break even kind of reaction. My basis for comparison is our Adult Trivia nights (which I also host) that always feel more, I don't know, energized. But thank God my wife was there as the scorekeeper, because I can't read questions and keep track of who's buzzing in at the same time. In fact, I'm proud to say that in the whole process, she was there for me at the two roughest spots. Thanks always sweetie!
So back to the breakout room. This was Madalyn's pet project, and it was a privilege to be a part of it. The Time Agency was a massive success. I don't have the statistics, but roughly half the teams escaped, which tells us that the puzzles were the right amount of difficulty. The story was, a time traveler from the future stole something vital to the timeline and hid it in a study in Victorian England. I talked some about this in a previous blog, as well as posting the journal I wrote for one of the puzzles. One of the most fun aspects of the breakout room was the way Madalyn and I lapsed into our characters, even if they were both completely off-screen. I was Sir Lucius (I forget the rest of his four names) the owner of the study in Victorian England, while Madalyn was Gil Terrence, the chrono-burglar. It was a really bizarre way to approach a character's creation, but in the end I was part of writing a breakout room, and that's a new one on me.
But my biggest contribution was the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure styled Powerpoint presentation (171 slides in all!) based on the classic S1 D&D module The Tomb of Horrors. Wow that thing took a lot out of me, and the participants only uncovered about half the secrets. I don't know how or when I'm going to be able to present it in any form on this blog, but suffice to say I think I'm locked into a third year. The gears are already turning.
I got to play a tiefling in Justin's live D&D game, which rocked in no uncertain terms. I have high hopes we'll get to do a follow up next year. And for the record, Chris, Aubrey, and Connor are the most chaotic band of players I've ever had the 'you've got to be kidding me' joy of charging into a burning building (that they set on fire) with. I got to play Hades at a Disney villains meet and greet, which was a wonderful piece of group improv. I got to sit on a panel with Bobby Nash, who is an author on a level I aspire to one day reach, and I certainly hope to be as warm and generous as he is should I ever get there.
The main takeaway is this: I've always been a nerd. I wasn't always proud to be one; because it's not just a trope, there really was a time that it could get you beaten up. In 2002, there was a Star Wars film, a Star Trek film, a James Bond film, a Lord of the Rings, a Harry Potter, and a comic book based movie (Spider-Man) all in the same year. I honestly thought that was the apex of nerd-dom. I thought, this was literally the best time to be a nerd, and it was a fluke that would never come again. The convention circuits like Dragon Con were islands in a sea of...normal stuff.
I remember the first year I took my wife to Dragon Con. We stepped off the subway and into a tunnel full of superheroes and elves on the escalators. She turned to me and said "I'm home." Those two words summed up the passion every nerd has ever had for shaking hands with Mark Hamill or posing for a picture with a Dalek.
But this is 2017, and that island has opened up to nearly all facets of culture. The stories and characters we retreated into for so long are embraced by the masses now. 2002 wasn't an anomaly, it was a preview. The safe havens of the convention circuit are no longer just a chance to come out of hiding anymore; they're a chance to shine, to spread prosthetic wings and glide to the costume contests. And I have a job where not only am I happy, but once a year I get to be part of creating that celebration for anybody who wants to come out and play for a few days. I used to think that being able to say "I'm home" was everything I could hope for, but I've come to realize that there's an even greater feeling; when you're finally in a position to follow it up with "and so are you". Thank you to everyone who made our festival special, and I look forward to seeing you all next year.
Monday, July 31, 2017
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
5 Tips for People Who Want to Give Chris Chibnall Tips About Showrunning Doctor Who
Hey, have you heard that Peter Capaldi is stepping down from his role as the Doctor? Yeah I thought so. Oh, and Steven Moffat is finally doing what Wikipedia hackers have been demanding since 2010 and vacating his position as show-runner, making way for Broadchurch's Chris Chibnall. That should be fun.
Of course, we're invariably going to be treated to a plethora of open letters to Mr. Chibnall from the fans (between now and eight months before he steps down) expressing their collective insight into what the show should and shouldn't be. The first one I've seen appeared Sunday in the Telegraph, and there's more to come.
Nerds are nothing if not opinionated (self-reflection acknowledged), but maybe as a public service to us all we could hone the advice into a usable pool? Here are my suggestions that nobody asked for to keep in mind before offering suggestions that Chris Chibnall has not asked for.
1. He probably knows what the show is about.
Everybody has passions, and we all think that we somehow have nuggets of wisdom just for caring so much. And yes, passions really can drive us to understand something. But we're talking amateurs versus professionals. In my blog, I have plenty to say about comedy. But if I were to sit down to dinner with Bob Newhart I would be more than comfortable accepting that I've got no tips whatsoever for him.
I don't know how Chibnall is going to do. I don't know where his ambitions lie or if he's coming from a place of "We HAVE to do this while I'm driving!". But the bottom line is, he's got the job. And he didn't get it from Michael Grade, so that's a plus. The powers most directly affected by the show's success or failure have decided that Chibnall is the one to carry on the legacy. That by itself means he knows more than you or me.
2. There are no roots that need gotten back to.
People on social media like to complain about when Doctor Who lost its identity or why it's not true to form anymore. Good lord, it's not complicated. He travels in a box and does stuff. That's it. Roots are officially watered.
The show has a fifty plus year history, the first five of which never even knew he was a Timelord. About the last time the show was in danger of not being Doctor Who was the American television movie in 1996, and even then Paul McGann emerged as a beloved contributor to the icon. At this point it's not likely we're going to see the show lose its way. We've all figured out what Doctor Who is.
3. Pearl Mackie/David Tennant/Nabil Shaban won't be returning no matter how vocal you are about it.
This one's easy. The show-runner doesn't care about your petitions. Nobody on staff has ever read a message board and thought "Wow! We never thought of bringing Sylvester McCoy back! Let's call him right now!" They're using the resources they have to make the show work the best way possible. You only have to look at Dimensions in Time to see what gratuity looks like and how wrong it feels. Actually don't. It will change you for the worse.
4. It doesn't make business sense to change the Doctor's gender at this time.
I don't have a problem seeing a female Doctor. If Joanna Lumley comes to the audition and mops the floor with the competition, then go for it. But lately people have been demanding a female Doctor just for the sake of itself. I don't get what that accomplishes. It would make more sense to me that the show spins off into a Romana series or something for when the Doctor goes on his endearing eighteen month hiatuses.
I don't predict the BBC would ever shake things up that much on their cash cow; especially considering that every time a cast member leaves, a subset of audience goes with them. The people who clamor for a female Doctor are still watching the show. The BBC is always going to prioritize for the audience that might wander away, and keep bringing them back with familiarity. Is that wrong? I don't know. But it's entertainment, where very little is at stake. Equality is better directed at real world issues.
Update: 7/16 Well, what do I know? Welcome to television history Jodie Whittaker!
5. You don't know what you want.
Just face it, you don't. When Jurassic Park hit theaters, people griped that it wasn't like the book. When Hannibal was released, people griped that if you read the book there were no surprises. Spider-Man 3 gave everybody what they asked for, and I'm willing to bet you're in a worse mood now just because I even mentioned that movie.
I can't think of a single time I've written something that's come out on paper the way it ran in my head. The reason is twofold (at least). For one thing, my head has not typed out the words; it has an amorphous idea that's constantly reworking itself. For another, sometimes an idea works in one's head that doesn't work on paper. It's an old saying of professional scriptwriters; every script is three stories: the one you imagine, the one you write, and the one that gets made. So really, what chance is there that you're ever going to see a Doctor Who production that appeases your own ambiguous expectations?
The best case scenario: Chris Chibnall knows what he's doing. The worst case: he doesn't. The more probable: he kind of knows, but he's also going to be figuring it out as he goes. In any case, the Doctor will survive. The show is about reinvention. This is one phase. There will be many more.
My only tip for Chibnall is this. Try to remember that we, the fans, tend to have really lousy ways of expressing how much we care. I don't envy the position you're taking on, but I'm very grateful that you're even willing to take on such an incredible role. Welcome to the legacy.
Of course, we're invariably going to be treated to a plethora of open letters to Mr. Chibnall from the fans (between now and eight months before he steps down) expressing their collective insight into what the show should and shouldn't be. The first one I've seen appeared Sunday in the Telegraph, and there's more to come.
Nerds are nothing if not opinionated (self-reflection acknowledged), but maybe as a public service to us all we could hone the advice into a usable pool? Here are my suggestions that nobody asked for to keep in mind before offering suggestions that Chris Chibnall has not asked for.
1. He probably knows what the show is about.
Everybody has passions, and we all think that we somehow have nuggets of wisdom just for caring so much. And yes, passions really can drive us to understand something. But we're talking amateurs versus professionals. In my blog, I have plenty to say about comedy. But if I were to sit down to dinner with Bob Newhart I would be more than comfortable accepting that I've got no tips whatsoever for him.
I don't know how Chibnall is going to do. I don't know where his ambitions lie or if he's coming from a place of "We HAVE to do this while I'm driving!". But the bottom line is, he's got the job. And he didn't get it from Michael Grade, so that's a plus. The powers most directly affected by the show's success or failure have decided that Chibnall is the one to carry on the legacy. That by itself means he knows more than you or me.
2. There are no roots that need gotten back to.
People on social media like to complain about when Doctor Who lost its identity or why it's not true to form anymore. Good lord, it's not complicated. He travels in a box and does stuff. That's it. Roots are officially watered.
The show has a fifty plus year history, the first five of which never even knew he was a Timelord. About the last time the show was in danger of not being Doctor Who was the American television movie in 1996, and even then Paul McGann emerged as a beloved contributor to the icon. At this point it's not likely we're going to see the show lose its way. We've all figured out what Doctor Who is.
3. Pearl Mackie/David Tennant/Nabil Shaban won't be returning no matter how vocal you are about it.
This one's easy. The show-runner doesn't care about your petitions. Nobody on staff has ever read a message board and thought "Wow! We never thought of bringing Sylvester McCoy back! Let's call him right now!" They're using the resources they have to make the show work the best way possible. You only have to look at Dimensions in Time to see what gratuity looks like and how wrong it feels. Actually don't. It will change you for the worse.
4. It doesn't make business sense to change the Doctor's gender at this time.
I don't have a problem seeing a female Doctor. If Joanna Lumley comes to the audition and mops the floor with the competition, then go for it. But lately people have been demanding a female Doctor just for the sake of itself. I don't get what that accomplishes. It would make more sense to me that the show spins off into a Romana series or something for when the Doctor goes on his endearing eighteen month hiatuses.
I don't predict the BBC would ever shake things up that much on their cash cow; especially considering that every time a cast member leaves, a subset of audience goes with them. The people who clamor for a female Doctor are still watching the show. The BBC is always going to prioritize for the audience that might wander away, and keep bringing them back with familiarity. Is that wrong? I don't know. But it's entertainment, where very little is at stake. Equality is better directed at real world issues.
Update: 7/16 Well, what do I know? Welcome to television history Jodie Whittaker!
5. You don't know what you want.
Just face it, you don't. When Jurassic Park hit theaters, people griped that it wasn't like the book. When Hannibal was released, people griped that if you read the book there were no surprises. Spider-Man 3 gave everybody what they asked for, and I'm willing to bet you're in a worse mood now just because I even mentioned that movie.
I can't think of a single time I've written something that's come out on paper the way it ran in my head. The reason is twofold (at least). For one thing, my head has not typed out the words; it has an amorphous idea that's constantly reworking itself. For another, sometimes an idea works in one's head that doesn't work on paper. It's an old saying of professional scriptwriters; every script is three stories: the one you imagine, the one you write, and the one that gets made. So really, what chance is there that you're ever going to see a Doctor Who production that appeases your own ambiguous expectations?
The best case scenario: Chris Chibnall knows what he's doing. The worst case: he doesn't. The more probable: he kind of knows, but he's also going to be figuring it out as he goes. In any case, the Doctor will survive. The show is about reinvention. This is one phase. There will be many more.
My only tip for Chibnall is this. Try to remember that we, the fans, tend to have really lousy ways of expressing how much we care. I don't envy the position you're taking on, but I'm very grateful that you're even willing to take on such an incredible role. Welcome to the legacy.
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