Confessions of a Button-Masher

Truth be told, I have never been much of a gamer - the only games console I have ever owned was a GameBoy Advance during some awkward years of Pokemon playing (I was pretty rubbish - never got my lead critters above a Level 70, and the only game I played was the Leaf Green version).  I'll play games for a social occasion - it's a fun way to spend time with friends, and can result in plenty of laffs all round - but I would never be the sort of person who would pick up a console and play just for the sake of improving my skill.

And it shows. When it comes to video games of any sort, I am the Supreme Queen of the Fail.

For example, the first time I played MarioKart was two years ago, when I was invited over to one of the boys' boarding houses by a gang of my male friends. They had a Wii in their common room, so we all sat down for a damp grey afternoon of fun. As a first time player, they gave me the benefit of the doubt and started out on some easier tracks, just until I could find my feet enough to compete somewhere more interesting.

There was no need.

Within seconds I had revealed my true skill with a console - by turning myself into an out-of-control ball of screeching, weapon-shedding, constantly exploding havoc. I fired my banana skins and mushrooms in all directions, I crashed into every human and computerised player on the track (and most of the scenery, for that matter). I even succeeded in doing an entire race ... the wrong way around.

Needless to say, there was much merriment to be had that afternoon.

And I haven't been invited back for another race yet.

Unfortunately, my complete lack of skill cannot just be put down to my unfamiliarity with the bizarre contraption that is the Wii controller. Another popular pastime of the gaming community is the famous Assassin's Creed - a game that depends mostly on skill, stealth and a good deal of practice in order to allow anyone any sort of success.

You can already guess how that went for me. There's a reason I'm always a pirate over a ninja.

If gameplay characters could talk to the players, I reckon Ezio would have been screaming at me to put the controller down and go and drown myself in the bathroom sink. I simply could not get my head around all the commands, even the most basic ones! Climbing walls and synchronising Leap of Faith mode were beyond me - not that I ever used it, because I could never work out how to run away fast enough to avoid the guards who nearly always hunted me down - despite my best efforts to fend them off by slamming my fingers on any button I could reach and cursing copiously in Latin. I was one very very dead assassin. Though, to this day, I protest that so-called "master assassins" should be able to avoid drowning in knee-high water. What's the use of having a hidden hand-cannon and knives up your sleeves if you can drown just by stepping into a particularly deep puddle? Honestly, Ubisoft!

It's the same story with dozens of other first-person games. I simply do not have the patience, calmness, or hand-eye co-ordination to utilise the console in a way that will enable me to get far into a game without help from a friend, or a few cunningly-timed cheats.
* Kingdom Hearts (I played Chain of Memories, and let me tell you the bosses drove me mad. Xigbar, get your arse off the ceiling and fight like a man! And since when is it fair that your opponent can just flash lightning from halfway across the room and turn you into a human shish-kebab before you can even get a blow on her? And don't even say the word "Luxord", or I might just have another dice-induced fit)
* Final Fantasy (Three words: DAMN YOU SEPHIROTH!)
* Legend of Zelda (the ranks of Navi haters gained a new member after about five minutes...)


The list goes on and on and on (and on, and on, and on), but the principle is basically the same. Despite my inherent nerdiness and increasingly geek-like tendencies - I'm fond of a good text-based role-play, and heck knows I'm vocal on any internet forum that talks Tolkein or Star Trek - I never have been, and probably never will be, a gamer.

They say a bad workman blames his tools. Well, a bad gamer blames the console. And I do.

Seriously, how on earth does anyone expect a highly-strung, inexperienced and very malco-ordinated teenage female, surrounded by impending foes intent on sucking out her intestines through her ears, to know which of those bizarre little buttons to click?

.... Scrabble, anyone?

Two's Company - An Ode to the Faithful Sidekick

Think of a hero, any hero. From a book, from a film, anywhere. Get them clear in your head, see them standing in front of you. Now look past them - do you see anything at their side? It may not be very clear, but you might make it out - a face, perhaps, or just a smile, the glimmer of eyes, perhaps just a fleeting shadow. That is, if you're not already distracted by someone else lurking over the hero's shoulder, grinning at you in a way that says "Yup, me too!"

Congratulations. Meet the sidekick.

Of course, they're not always called that. Sometimes they're a family member - half-brothers, long-lost parents and other forms of estranged relative are quite popular - or a mentor or guide of some sort, perhaps a guardian if our hero at the stage where they could logically fight off a serious foe by themselves. Other times they're a close friend or sweetheart who refuses to be left behind, or maybe an new acquaintance picked up along the way in some exceptional circumstance, who has decided, hey, this looks like fun, I'll come with you! But, though they come in many shapes, sizes, forms and varying degrees of usefulness, you can be pretty sure that no hero is likely to get through a journey without someone trotting at their shoulders.

Sidekicks are a staple part of most stories and - for the most part - they're pretty cool to have around. They link your main character more firmly to the world they live in, as well as providing the much needed realism that humans, by and large, are social creatures who like having friends around to provide practical and emotional support when the going gets tough. Their personalities can either compliment or contrast that of the hero, and the interaction between them is awesome if you want to show, rather than tell, someone's feelings at a given time. If the story's a serious one, sidekicks are frequently called upon to lighten the mood with some form of comic relief, and heck knows they get themselves into enough trouble to shift the plot along nicely - whether it be accidentally starting a bar fight, tripping over the map everyone's spent a chapter and a half looking for, or getting kidnapped by a major villain and spurring any particularly reluctant heroes into action. And, from an authorly perspective, how can anyone resist breaking the readership's heart by killing off a much-loved character at any moment? (I must confess to doing something similar in my Aeserion Trilogy ... my readers were not impressed)

And the best part? They can do all the things that your hero won't / can't / isn't stupid enough to do.
Hero doesn't much fancy climbing the tree to retrive that honeycomb? Send in the sidekick.
When crossing a swamp, hero has found some way to clear the nasty bits, but you need someone to retrieve a neccessary item from the bottom of the swamp? Send in the sidekick.
Hero has half a brain in their head, and knows better than to go and poke the funny glowing object in the middle of the room that will result in the raising of a vast skeleton army defending the only way into the villain's lair? Sorry sidekick, not sure your Life Insurance covers this...
They suffer for their art, bless them.

On the other hand, sidekicks do often suffer from Cardboard Character Syndrome if not used well. How many books have we read where the hero or heroine's "best friend" is nothing but a peppy, brainless idiot who chirps along and believes everything can be solved through the power of Twoo Fwendship, a hug and a cup of hot chocolate. Just as bad are the sardonic background lurkers who are meant to be "cool" and funny with their wry senses of humour, but just end up as those people who say unneccessarily depressing things in an attempt to look witty. For perfect examples of rubbish sidekicks, read the House of Night series by P.C. and Kristin Cast. I'm pretty sure Fred and George, Elladan and Elrohir and all the other famous sets of twins out there would grind their heads into the wall at the two horrors we are supposed to find endearing.

Thankfully, however, most well-written books will have used their sidekicks as they should be - another interesting character to encourage the reader into the story, strap them in, and hand over the barf bag when things get hairy. That is, if they're not sitting at the front going "it's way more fun if you put your hands in the air, trust me! Wheee!" or, alternatively, hiding under your seat whimpering, "goodbye, cruel world!"

And now, just to finish it off, in an ode to the thousands of poor unappreciated sidekicks who have trekked through the ages beside all the lost kings, freedom fighters and Chosen Ones of a thousand tales, I give you... 

Ten Awful Things Sidekicks ALWAYS Have To Do.

1) When your hero is injured in battle, you will have to rescue them, putting your own neck on the line in the process. Most likely sustaining some sort of injury to yourself in the process.


2) When your hero falls into some sort of trap, you will have to get them out again. Even if there are snakes involved.


3) When the villain comes after your hero, you will probably be kidnapped and interrogated for information. You may also be placed in a precarious position and used as bait to lure your friend into the villain's trap.


4) When the author wants to create an atmosphere of complete desolation and hopelessness, you will most likely be horribly wounded and die an agonising death in the hero's arms. They will not stop shaking you and yelling at you to come back. You will not have the strength to slap them and tell them to shut up and let you die.


5) When the hero is in one of their angsty moods, you will be sent in to try and cheer them up. And you will probably lose a few teeth in the process.


6) When the hero recovers from said angsty fit, you will have to listen as they start up a grand speech about the neccessity of their quest, and their determination to complete it whatever the cost. For the fifty-thousandth time.


7) When your hero is locked in the battle with the arch-villain / chasing the murderer across the rooftops / finding the final clue to the mystery, you will be left behind to fend off the hordes of minions / gangsters / well-intending but misguided authorities that will try and stop you.


8) When your hero is exhausted, you will have to carry everything so they can rest. That is, if you don't end up carrying them too.


9) When your hero meets the woman / man / creature of indefinite gender of their dreams, you will have to watch their heartfelt moments together. Fifty billion times. While resisting the urge to remind them that the building is about to crash down on their heads.


10) When the battle is won / mystery is solved / curse is lifted etc, you will have to stand back and force a smile while your hero gets all the glory, riches and reward that goes with it. You will then have to ask to sleep on the hero's sofa until someone gets back to you on the fleetingly-mentioned paycheck that you aren't sure is ever going to procure itself.

It All Ends Here ... Or Does It?

Last night marked the end of my childhood. Sitting in a squishy chair, with a pair of funny black glasses balanced on the end of my nose, an over-priced Pick 'n' Mix in my lap and with my stomach doing backflips in my belly, I watched as the story that has captivated thousands like me finally came to an end.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two.

The story has spanned seven books, eight films, fourteen years, and more money than I could hope to count in a lifetime. It's made household names of Radcliffe, Watson and Grint, and allowed me to convince every small child I babysit that, because I go to boarding school, I can - and will - turn them into frogs if they don't go to bed on time.

But it meant more than that to me. I grew up with these books, and one of my earliest memories is of sitting outside on a chilly evening in Germany, listening to my dad read to me about the odious Dursley family, and whispering the street name to myself. Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

To me, Harry, Ron and Hermione's world was more than just an entertaining story. Hogwarts, like Narnia, Middle Earth and countless other fantastic worlds, became my second home through a childhood that was not always as pleasant as one would like. Whenever I was sad, I would retreat inside the story, and comfort myself that, at least, I wasn't expected to keep my dignity when faced with Moaning Myrtle in a bubble bath.

But now, if the media hype is to be believed, it is all over. The last book is out, the last movie finished, and the actors and actresses who brought Rowling's marvelous creations to life are all moving on to bigger things in the outside world.

Harry Potter is over.

Or is it?

Can a story, really, end? Is one telling enough to exhaust it? Is it just a fad, like suspenders and mullet haircuts, that, having lived out its glory days, will fade away until nobody remembers it? Will I one day walk into a bookstore and have someone say to me "Harry who?"

I don't think so. Stories aren't that easy to get rid of. Stories aren't one-use goods, seen once and gone with a miserable puff of black smoke, vanishing faster than a house elf. Stories can come back time and time again and, whether it's the first, or the hundred-thousandth time you've heard it, the ones you love will always kindle that little spark inside your soul. They'll always be there, like an old friend or treasured toy from childhood, waiting to welcome you back into the world you have come to love so much, and take you on the travels with the characters who first enchanted you all that time ago, ready to vanish into adventures beyond your wildest dreams.

The last film be over, but, like every true classic - and yes, I think this is a true classic of children's literature - it will never, really, be gone. I, at least, will certainly make a point of reading the story of the green-eyed bespectacled teenage wizard to whatever children, god-children or any other form of young friend or relative I may come to know in future, and I know I'm not alone. That's what stories are for; for sharing and passing on the magic, for bringing people together in the shared love of a tale, whatever it may be.

The franchise has ended.
The story never will.

What Next: The Vote Goes To You!

Hallo everyone! It's me again!
I meant to go and post on my WordPress blog today, about my new project, but then I realised ... I don't have one. Well, technically I do - in fact I'm positively drowning under ideas right now! - but I have no idea which one to do. I can't possibly choose, because they're all so appealing in their different ways.

So, I thought, why not let the readers choose? I'm going to put up each option, plus a wee bit about the story and a few key words. The winner will be my new project!

Okay, so, here we go ...

Option One: "Hakel: Stories of the Past" -  A selection of short stories all about the lineage of one of my newly invented fantasy races. The making and breaking of the Myst-Hakel, from their humble beginnings and the first heroes who forged the beginnings of their legacy, to the height of their power - in which powerful families loved, lost, fought, feuded and, in the case of a line of misfit crossbreeds, saved the world quite by accident - to their tragic, turbulent end amidst the fire and grief of the Ending War.

Option Two (which I think I have posted about before): The great sprawling city of Scatterank is a whole new world to Deladier du Quenta, heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the known world. His naivety leaves him utterly helpless in a world of glittering treachery and smiling, subtle brutality. Thankfully for him, he has the friendship of Rembrandt and a gang of misfits from every walk of life. However, when dark deeds start to rise from the blackest corners of the city, Scatterank is in trouble. And Deladier has a horrible feeling that some of it comes from his new friends' own pasts ...

Option Three: "Faith" - Faith is an orphan; she never knew her parents, and her beloved older brother Valiant has been dead for nearly two years - slain by the vicious Heathen who lurk forever at the Sanctuary gates. She lives with Gentle and her husband Loyal, friends of the family, and leads a sheltered life under the care of the almighty Church and their watchful Gods. But all is not as it seems, and soon cracks begin to dent Faith's idyllic life. And the biggest crack of all comes in the form of the person she loved and lost all those years ago. Valiant himself.

And finally...

Option Four: Ceridwen has been doing well for herself. She's got a profitable set of clients, a comfortable haunt and unofficial immunity from the law, granted by her dangerous reputation. With the help of her shadowy confidant Axis, she and her small troop of miscellaneous mercenaries focus mainly on bringing in the money and staying out of the way of the law enforcement squads. However, the discovery and unwitting rescue of a child puts them all in terrible danger, and Ceridwen will need all her cunning to save her friends - and, in fact, the government of the city itself - from anarchy.

The titles up here are only provisional, and I will most likely change them when I think of better ones :P
Now ... take your pick!

A Multi-Purpose Post!

Well, would you look at that, a dual-purpose post!
Merlin's Underpants, this is exciting!

Anyway, as well as being an obligatory "I'm not dead yet!" post, this little monster also serves a couple more purposes ...

The first, and most important, is to let all you lovely people know that "The Scribblings" tab is finally up and running! Sorry that only two of the works have links - I haven't finished writing Legend yet, and I never posted the NaNovel due to its holey plot, lack of continuity and overall suckiness. However, if you want to know what sick, twisted creation my mind spawned last November, feel free to read the synopsis!
If you want to know more about what's going on in any of the stories (trust me, no question is too odd!) Then leave me a little comment below and I'll happily do a little "Twenty Questions" blog post to answer all your quieries :)

And the next purpose .... there isn't one xD
To make up for it, here's an awesome video I found on YouTube. Who thinks this should be my new theme song?

-Spook

Under Construction

'Allo everyone!
If you hadn't already noticed (and I would certainly hope you had, because I tried to make it as obvious as possible), tharr be a new pagey-whatsit in the pane underneath the site banner. It's under construction at the mo, while I sort out layout, content, links and all those thingies, but hopefully it will soon be a fully-functioning little widget that will keep you updated on my writing-based madness. Most of my posts seem to be rather vague about exactly who and what I'm writing about, and gods know I call my projects so many things that it's impossible for anyone to keep track of them unless they're part dictionary. So, hopefully, when I've put everything in there, it should all become much more clear.

Now ... time to hunt out some linkseseses ...

-Spook