Monsters and Metaphor, Part 2

To recap the previous post:

There are a lot of horror stories that like to use monsters as a metaphor for people with mental illnesses. I prefer to think of the monsters as the mental illnesses themselves, whereas the people dealing with them are more the Buffy-esque badasses who deal with them.

An unrelated conversation got me pondering a fairly common question: “Why do kids these days have to put a label on everything?”

Well, since I’ve already got the metaphor onhand, let’s talk about the thing:

Continue reading “Monsters and Metaphor, Part 2”

Invisible monsters

People are afraid of mental illness. They see the mentally ill in every deranged killer on the screen, every act of violence on the news they can’t explain, every action whose logic is not immediately apparent. When we make no effort to understand mental illness, all people who are mentally ill are unknowns. And we fear the unknown.

Stigmatization of mental illness and the people who have it has led to sufferers being ostracized, demonized, attacked and even killed– and consequently, those who do suffer from mental illness are often reluctant to acknowledge it or seek the help they need for fear of the consequences.

And yes, mental illness is scary. It doesn’t turn you into a monster– more often, it’s like a monster living inside your own head. It’s like a vampire that looks normal to everybody else, except you’ve noticed that it doesn’t have a reflection, and you try to keep it out but it’s too late—without even thinking, you’ve already invited it in. Continue reading “Invisible monsters”

On Terms of Endearment

There’s a lot in the Urban Dragon series to offend people with delicate sensibilities: violence, language, gore, sexual assault, sex work, diversity, dick jokes, etc. So when my dad complained about my writing, I wasn’t surprised that he took offense so much as the thing he took offense about:

I’d referred to Boxy as my partner, rather than my husband.

My dad wanted to know why. The short answer is because ‘partner’ has always sounded right, and ‘husband’ has always sounded wrong. But the question’s been mulling around in my head long enough that I’ve got a more articulate answer. Continue reading “On Terms of Endearment”

Molly Grue and the Ghostbusters

When I read The Art of Wishing by Lindsay Ribar, I found myself getting angry– a pacing, seething, hissing fury.

Not because I didn’t like the book, mind you. I absolutely loved it. And one of the things I loved most about the book is the very thing that inspired my outrage.  Continue reading “Molly Grue and the Ghostbusters”

Why secret identities make me see red

(Note: there are some vague spoilers for Daredevil and other titles in the MCU. I don’t get into too many specifics, but you have been warned.)

I was watching the most recent season of Daredevil, and something struck me as off. It was surprising– I really enjoyed the first season, and I thought it was well done. But by the second season finale, I was getting agitated. There were a couple of issues, but the biggest one was that it struck a personal pet peeve of mine: he still has a secret identity.


I’m picking on the super hero genre, but the unnecessary secret is a huge trope all over the place. Vampires are forbidden from breaking the masquerade, and wizards can’t expose magic to muggles. There’s inevitably a long, drawn out sequence where the mundane person is suddenly exposed to this secret world that they never knew existed, and is forced to re-evaluate their relationship with the ones they love.

But… why?

It wouldn’t bother me nearly so much if there was an actual solid reason for something to be kept secret, but that’s rarely the case. Often, it feels like a plot device to either create artificial drama, or as a plot coupon to explain why a hero/villain can go around killing masses of people without consequences, or to explain why only the designated hero could possibly stop the designated villain rather than the police or the army. (It has often been pointed out how quickly a gun could have taken out Voldemort, even if not all his horcruxes.)

The MCU has actually been pretty good about this for the most part, and it shows in the kind of plots that the characters are suddenly intertwined with. Being unmasked means that heroes suddenly have to face the consequences of their actions. Iron Man and Captain America have both been harangued by the US government about who owns their superpowered identities. Jessica Jones and Frank Castle have both been taken to court for, you know, killing people. These are new and interesting plots that you don’t see very often in the super hero movie/show genre (I won’t get into the comics, since there is literally a comic about the people who clean up after superheroes. Just because a thing isn’t mainstream doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist).

So this isn’t me calling out all secret worlds ever. Just the ones that don’t make sense. Particularly when they intersect with relationships.

Love in a time of secrets

You already know the old song and dance. “I can’t tell Aunt May that I’m Spiderman! Her heart can’t take it, and she will surely die!” “I can’t tell Lowis Lane that I’m Superman, because then she’ll be targeted by my enemies!”

Cue lots of lying and cover-ups, awkward misunderstandings and hurt feelings. Cue the loved ones of the super hero inevitably being kidnapped by all manner of villains anyway, and generally being put into more danger by their ignorance, often while trying to find out more about the hero or the secret identity. Cue them feeling lost and useless while the hero misses out on much-needed help that this person easily could have provided.

Perhaps most irritating to me, it almost always feels like rampant misogyny. Because even though platonic best friends sometimes get caught with the short side of the secret identity stick, that role usually falls on their wife or girlfriend (or in Peter Parker’s case, his aunt). Even if another man is kept out of the loop, they’re often clued in earlier and with a whole lot less drama than their female counterparts. (Because of this, I’ll be using ‘he’ for the hero and ‘she’ for the loved one from this point forward, even though either person can be any gender).

Hero knows best

Sometimes the hero’s loved one is told to just leave town, usually without explanation. She’s expected to obey without question, despite the hero’s erratic behavior. It doesn’t matter that she’s been shown to be reasonably intelligent before now; she doesn’t actually understand the situation, so she should just do as he says and trust that he knows better than she does.

It’s not just in isolated incidents of danger, though.

“She can’t know, or she’ll be in danger” assumes that it’s his right to decide whether or not she pursues danger or avoids it. If she doesn’t want to be involved in his life, it’s within her rights to leave. If she wants to risk the danger of associating with the hero, then it’s within her rights to stick around.

Consequently, the hero spends an irritating amount of the plot chasing after his loved one and saving her from obvious danger, as if she was a toddler playing blind man’s bluff in a knife factory. And there’s a reason for that: Taking away their right to know takes away their ability to make an informed decision. The entire premise of the secret identity reduces her agency to that of a child.

Good secrets

That isn’t to say that there can’t be secrets for good reasons. There are plenty of LGBT+ individuals who have to keep secret identities every day, because telling the other person could have grave consequences, especially in one of the many countries where those identities are criminalized. “If she finds out, she’ll be in danger” is very different from “If she finds out, she’ll try to kill me” or “she might not want to kill me, but she may tell someone who will.”

The biggest difference in this case is that the hero (the person keeping the secret) is trying to protect themselves, not the person they’re lying to. And consequently, they’re not infantilizing the other person by making decisions on their behalf. And that makes all the difference.

How to talk about your novel

Writers have entire worlds swimming around in our heads, and we often have a hard time condensing something so huge into less than 100,000 words. This is why one of the hardest parts of trying to get published is often said to be writing a query letter or a synopsis. Often, we see the grand scale, twisting plot, and intense worldbuilding as a major part of the charm of our stories, but these lose a lot of their effect when they’re presented in conversation.

Some writers respond to this by staying quiet and not talking about their stories at all. Others go to the opposite end of the spectrum and try to tell the entire thing in one sitting.

Now, don’t get me wrong– telling people about your story can be a great way to get other people excited to read it. However, presenting too much all at once can be overwhelming and off-putting.

Based on my experiences interacting with other writers, here are some common problems we have when talking about our stories, and tips on how to fix them.  Continue reading “How to talk about your novel”

What’s wrong with the Super Bowl?

Full disclosure: Tonight I’m writing my blog post from the Phoenix, AZ, International Airport. I’m writing here instead of in an airplane heading home because Super Bowl-induced air traffic caused some delays in my flight here, and I wound up missing the transfer to Indianapolis.

There was also rain involved, but mostly I blame the event, because I’m petty like that.

I make it no secret that I’ve got a chip on my shoulder about football in general, and the Super bowl in particular. It’s not the game in general I take issue with, but the amount of focus it gets in American minds, often at a significant human cost.

Misplaced priorities 

Don’t get me wrong– I fully support programs (including sports programs) in schools that help students build self-worth and develop themselves and their interests. However, in the USA, it’s not unusual for sports programs to get a generous budget while other programs (not only the arts, but things as basic as mathematics) wither and starve for want of funding.

The local impact

When the Super Bowl came to my home town a few years back, it brought some good things to Indy (though not money– in fact, Indy lost $1 million in revenue hosting the Super Bowl in 2012). But as while my husband and I were enjoying the newly renovated Georgia Street walkway, we ran into a homeless man who’d been forcibly evicted from the homeless camp at which he’d been living. Turns out the city’s efforts to “clean up” the city involved removing the local homeless population and putting them…

Actually, that part was never made clear. There wasn’t enough room in shelters to house the city’s homeless, and even if the Super Bowl Committee had planned to put each displaced person up in a motel room for the duration of the event, there weren’t any open rooms within an hour’s drive of the city. They were simply told to go somewhere else.

A history of violence

I can’t remember a time when professional athletes weren’t coming under fire for scandals. I’m not talking about relatively harmless offenses like cheating at the game, either– I’m talking about crimes like dog fighting, domestic assault, child abuse, and rape.

And worst of all, those who commit these crimes are often protected and defended in the name of their “promising careers”.

Is this really where you want to spend your money?

This year, a “cheap” ticket to attend the 2015 Phoenix, AZ, Super Bowl cost between $3,000 and $9,000, depending on when you bought your seat.

Let me point out that with the price of a single ticket (we’re going to be conservative here and go with the cheapest possible ticket), you could:

  • Pay for a semester’s tuition for one full-time student
  • Rent a one-bedroom apartment in Phoenix, AZ, for six months
  • Buy a $5 meal for 600 people (or, conversely, three square meals for one person for six months)
  • Pay for 300 visits to a low-cost Minute Clinic.

And those are the cheap seats.

What’s the point of all this?

I’m not saying you should stop enjoying football, the Super Bowl, or any sport that you enjoy. I don’t think you should be apologetic or ashamed. But I do implore you to think critically about the media that you are consuming (which you may already be doing, if you’ve gotten this far without closing the tab in an infuriated huff).

If a child you know is into sports, remind them of the importance of sportsmanship and integrity and respect, especially off the field. When an athlete is accused of criminal behavior, don’t downplay the suffering of the victim in the name of your team’s winning streak. When you consider splurging on expensive tickets, consider also donating resources to those in need.