The Traitorous Confessions of a Former DC Fangirl

I've had a pretty bad week, ladies and gents, for reasons that aren't particularly relevant on what I am still determined shall be a professional blog. (IT WILL, DAMN IT.) What could possibly be a better distraction for me than a couple of margaritas, some friends, and a Big Dumb Fun Movie? Especially when it's wearing a red cape and a bratty grin that ought to require a license?

That's right. I went to see Thor, and I loved the hell out of it. Why the subject line, you ask? See, I'm a DC girl, always have been and until very recently thought that I always would be. I once wrote a song about Frank Miller. (I can't remember the lyrics now, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that they probably involved whores.) I can write you a ten-page paper comparing and contrasting various Supermans (Supermen?) without even cracking a book. (Tom Welling is awesome, haters to the left.) I might be able to rattle off a half-dozen Marvel characters if I concentrate hard and am allowed to count the X-Men as individuals rather than a unit, but more and more I've come to look forward to the newest Marvel superhero extravaganza while dreading DC's next effort. There are three reasons for this.

Narrative cohesion. The same way that a book picks up speed in its final chapters, Marvel is pushing towards one massive (if probably not final, because no one is walking away from this franchise while there's still profit to be made) event in The Avengers. Each movie is keeps this in mind, makes references to others in the franchise, and shares a visual style. I can't imagine Nolan's Gotham existing in the same universe as Singer's Metropolis, let alone characters crossing over. Apparently, the DC folks can't imagine it, either, if Supes is now also going to be headed by Nolan, but, well… let's say that my hopes when it comes to the next Superman have been steadily diminishing.

Fun. Thor was a blast to watch in large part because everyone involved was clearly having the time of their lives and realized that "deep" (and believe it or not, the flick has its moments) doesn't have to mean "unremittingly grim." Marvel superhero movies as a whole seem to get this, actually, from the quick dialogue to the bright filters used in filming. I'm still holding out hope for The Green Lantern, but that's mostly because Ryan Reynolds can't not be a smartass. He does not understand how. I didn't realize what an adorable dork Brandon Routh once until I stumbled across his Funny or Die videos. Come on, DC. To quote one of your most memorable characters: why so serious?

And finally, Marvel has started to embrace a fact that DC can't quite seem to grasp: girls like superheroes, too. It's at its most blatant thus far in Thor, which has several moments of female gaze seeded throughout, and it also looks as if it's also going to play a role in Captain America. (The trailer here features a shot of the female lead struggling very hard not to grab at Chris Evans's pecs. You and me both, sister.) Looking back, while Thor is the most explicitly lady-friendly Marvel venture to date, none of their offerings are unfriendly, either. Shots of Pepper's cleavage are matched with Tony selling copious tickets to the gun show. Meanwhile (and apologies to the fanboys and fangirls that this is going to piss off, but it's true), Chris Nolan has never met a female lead that he couldn't fridge and thinks that Batgirl is so ridiculous (while dressing up as a giant flying rat rather than getting a Celexa prescription happens every day) that he'll invent a son for Commissioner Gordon to bond with rather than showing Barbara's civilian self. Zack Snyder made certain that the climactic moment of heroism in Sucker Punch involved submitting to a gang rape. If Lois Lane makes it out of the next Superman movie alive, without being sexually assaulted, and also without a brand-new set of Kryptonite nipple piercings? I'm going to be over the moon. Comics and comics fandom have long been spaces where male characters overwhelmingly hold sway. (Hey, I'm working on it!) Marvel, however, has realized that half the human race is female and that they can make more money by appealing across genders. Quite apart from making me all fuzzy inside, that's just good business sense, and I wish them all the luck in the world.

Besides, Thor's just a damned good movie. It's funny, it's well-acted by charismatic leads, and seriously, Mr. Hemsworth, it has to be said: yowza.

This just in: educators aren't put away in packing peanuts whenever they're not around your kids.

English teacher writes racy novels, parents with nothing better to do lose their minds.

Smart Bitches, Trashy Books is predictably awesome.

I agree with SB, TB: for once, it's worth it to read the comments on a news article.  Wow, a grown-ass woman writes about, meaning that she thinks about, sex.  She doesn't bring it into the school.  She doesn't promote it to minors.  (However much I think that it's willful obtuseness not to realize that teenagers think about sex.)  If you're going to excoriate her for this, then you have to do the exact same for every single biological parent with a student attending that school. They're not just thinking about sex, they're giving tangible proof that they've had it.

There are also things to be said when it comes to why a woman writing about sex is being deviant, but if a man were to write about violence he would be an exalted local author.  However, others have said them better, so for now I won't.  What I will do is choke down my reaction to Mays' fairly ridiculous Kindle prices and give the lady some business.

Thoughts on Scream 4

In which I had to fight very hard with myself not to yell "[Expletive] YEAH FINAL GIRLS!" over and over again.

Alcoholics and workaholics do grow from the same seed, after all.

I? Am a creature of extremes. When I'm drafting, it means that I'm drafting: 3000-4000 words a day, every day, until the book is finished. (In this case, until the series is finished. I'm going to need one hell of a pitcher of margaritas when it's done.) That's it. That's what I do. Well, that and walk around muttering to myself and clutching a mug of tea to my chest like it's a baby monkey and I'm it's mother, but I honestly sometimes do that solely because it's raining and I'm trapped inside for the weekend.

Let's meander our way back towards the point. Writing a draft takes a very specific part of my brain, one that is disturbingly non-analytical and more than a little crazy. Editing, covers, the nuts and bolts business end of things, all require a logical part of my brain that just doesn't mesh with the creative side. I kept having to switch back and forth between those aspects of my brain today, and I'm feeling a little schizophrenic as a result.

Good things happened, though! 2200 more words on No Such Place, bringing us to a current total of 24000, or just under one-third of the way through, and substantive work on three different covers, one of which is for a book not yet even written. It requires a pool, though, and I have a policy of not torturing my models if I can at all help it, so it's good to get these things nailed down in advance. In addition, I figured out a compromise for Super ≠ Model that I might even like better than my original dream cover, all with the bonus of not killing this model! Killing them is even worse than torturing them, right?

Now. Off for tea. I solemnly swear that I will neither pet it nor try to name it.

It's a perfect day to swan dramatically about the moors.

Hasn't stopped raining and thundering since about six this morning, and I've actually had to turn on my heat. I don't think that the new Jane Eyre is showing in my city yet, or this would be good weather for it. (Oh, Jaime Bell, the things that I do for you.)

I was planning on seeing the newest Scream offering with a friend yesterday, only to be felled by a truly hideous sinus headache that was the harbinger of the storm wailing and stomping outside my window right now. A shame that our schedules won't align today for a second go at it, because I am so in the mood for a good Final Girl right now. In the meantime, I suppose I should, you know, write a bit and justify my existence or something (I've only done 700 words today, that's pathetic), but weather like this nearly sucks out your will to live.

The random thoughts one has at the end of a vacation.

I would really like to see a vampire-human-werewolf novel wherein the werewolf character, in response to the human character expressing an interest in them, blurts out something along the lines of, "We are different species, what is wrong with you, that is sick!"

THAT IS HALF A SERIES. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN.

Human Remains



Two books down, two to go. It's too fat in the middle and too lean in the last three or so chapters where I was deeply, deeply tired and ready to be done, so that's a pretty accurate word count.

I figured that I would write ridiculous idfic for the rest of the day as a reward. I edited instead. Workaholic, thy name is Me.