Category: Literature (Page 7 of 9)

5 Reasons You Should Be Hyped for Starz’s American Gods

March 27, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

On April 30th, one hell of a TV series comes to Starz. I’m talking about American Gods, based on the novel of the same name by Neil Gaiman. This is my favorite novel ever, and I am hyped for the series. Here’s why you should be, too:

1. The Story is Especially Relevant Today

American Gods is about a stoic man named Shadow Moon (played by Ricky Whittle) who’s released from prison, only to find that his wife Laura (Emily Browning) has tragically died. Lacking direction, Shadow encounters a grifter by the name of Mr. Wednesday (Ian McShane), who is far more than he appears. In fact, he’s the Norse god Odin.

Here’s the coolest part: Mr. Wednesday is recruiting forgotten gods for an epic confrontation with modern gods. The old gods consist of deities brought to America from other countries. The new gods represent airplanes, the internet, cell phones, and modern technology in general.

That’s an apt metaphor for how we live today. And though Gaiman first published the novel in 2001, this central premise is even more accurate today. We devote so much time, money, and energy to our tech that it really is almost like worship.

2. The People Behind the Show Are Outstanding

For starters, Bryan Fuller and Michael Green serve as creators. Though you might not recognize their names, they’ve worked on series you know, such as Pushing Daisies, Heroes, Hannibal, and Gotham. These guys are good.

Also, the cast is excellent. In addition to the aforementioned Whittle, Browning, and McShane, the show also features Pablo Schreiber (Orange is the New Black), Crispin Glover (Back to the Future), Cloris Leachman (Young Frankenstein), Peter Stormare (The Big Lebowski), Gillian Anderson (The X-Files), Orlando Jones (Mad TV), Dane Cook (Dan in Real Life), Kristen Chenoweth (Wicked), and Corbin Bernsen (Psych).

Impressed? Me too.

3. Neil Gaiman is “Very Involved”

They’re taking a page from Game of Thrones’s book with this decision. Clearly, the person behind the original story should be the one with heavy input on the project. Plus, Gaiman already has experience in television; he created the BBC series Neverwhere. The guy knows what he’s doing.

4. They’re Expanding on the Original Story

Adaptations are far more interesting when they go beyond the source material, rather than regurgitate it. Good news is, American Gods seems to be doing just that.

The first season will cover the first third of the novel or so. Then, if we get later seasons, they’ll cover later parts of the book. Also, the companion novel Anansi Boys could become part of the show, should popularity allow it. Let’s hope so!

5. The Trailer Looks Sick

I don’t think I need to say much more about this one.

I hope I’ve successfully hyped you up for this show. Check it out on April 30th!

Cloud Atlas: One of the Best Books I’ve Ever Read

January 16, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

With one novel, David Mitchell became one of my favorite authors.

But, then again, Cloud Atlas can hardly be considered just one novel. It’s more like six interrelated novellas, five of which are interrupted halfway through. Each has a drastically different setting and style, ranging from a mid-19th century series of journal entries from a South Pacific voyage to an oral account of futuristic, post-apocalyptic Hawaii. Oh, and each character discovers the story of the character from the previous setting in each novella. Also, all but one of the main characters are related, though they are not descendants of one another.

Sound confusing? That’s part of what makes it so awesome.

Cloud Atlas is one of those books where you’ll finish it, put it down, and never stop thinking about it. Mitchell draws parallels across time and space and worlds. He switches from genre to genre like a chameleon changes the color of its skin. And, perhaps best of all, he challenges his readers to piece together an intricate literary puzzle.

Though each narrator has her/his own narrative arc, Cloud Atlas does not have the typical cause-and-effect plot of the average bestseller. I argue that it’s more an exploration of theme and idea than a linear story. The form of the novel reflects these enduring themes, showing that even through changing eras, human nature remains fundamentally constant. It’s tough to get at first, but once you finish the novel, you’ll see it.

Though I absolutely love this novel, some may find certain sections to be less enjoyable than others. I myself find “An Orison of Somni-451” to be rather dry, though a friend of mine likes it very much. That same friend dislikes “The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish.” I, on the other hand, think it’s hilarious. With so many genres in one book, I guess you can’t please everyone…

That said, I think each story is enjoyable because they’ve all been written by the same person. I mean, how many authors out there can say that they combined comedy, drama, suspense, and science-fiction, all in one book?

A work of creative genius. There’s no other way to put it. It’s one of the most innovative, most brilliant, most enjoyable novels I’ve ever read. I highly recommend it.

Rating: 9.5/10

Like this review? I’ve got more where that came from. See them here.

Why Do We Care When Characters Die?

December 12, 2016 / Kyle A. Massa

Why’d you have to take Ned Stark, man?

Did you cry when Bambi’s mom got shot?

It’s okay. You can admit it. Though we know they’re not real, the death of fictional characters evokes real emotion in us. I find that amazing. After all, when fictional character die, we’re essentially mourning the loss of someone who does not, has not, and never will, exist.

The question is: why? Why do we care when a nonexistent character bites the dust?

I don’t claim to know the answer. But I do have some theories.

Here’s the first: we humans can’t help but empathize. When characters feel realistic, when we become invested in them, they become mirrors. We see our own traits reflected back at us, both the good and the bad. We draw parallels between our lives and theirs. So, when one of them dies, we see parts of us dying, too. And nobody likes that.

Here’s another: the more time we spend with characters, the more we become attached to them. Especially in book series, TV series, and film franchises, we watch these characters grow, watch them succeed and fail, watch them change with us. I think this is especially true for something like the Harry Potter series, in which the readers/viewers grow up right alongside the characters. When you’re going through the same experiences with another person at the same time, you’re likely to form a connection with them (even if they’re made up).

My third and most out-there theory: death in fiction reminds us of our own mortality. A popular theory of filmmaking states that we love movies because they solve problems in a matter of hours that are otherwise unsolvable in real life. In The Lord of the Rings, for example, Frodo extinguishes every last shred of evil in the world just by tossing some jewelry into an active volcano. Of course, we know that destroying (or even defining) evil is not that simple. But it’s still satisfying to see it done in fiction.

When characters die, however, it’s a subconscious reminder of the real world. We react so strongly to death in fiction because it reminds us that problems like death can’t be solved, not even in fictional realities.

It’s weird, but as much as they can sometimes upset us, character deaths often shape good fiction. Without people dying left and right, would A Song of Ice and Fire be the compelling series that it is? Definitely not. No matter what the reason, killing beloved characters is an essential part of fiction.

But still. Bambi’s mom was over the line, Disney.

Writers Are More Normal Than Movies Would Have You Believe

April 25, 2016 / Kyle A. Massa

Do you know any writers? Do you absolutely hate those people?

I ask because of a film I recently watched called Stuck In Love, a film which essentially posits that all writers are dark, moody substance abusers, and way smarter than you’ll ever be. Or, more generally, the kind of people nobody likes.

The brief rundown: a family of writers struggles with the ups and downs of being in love. There’s Bill Borgens, played by Greg Kinnear, a brilliant writer who hasn’t written anything since his wife Erica, Jennifer Connelly, left him (unsurprising). And then there’s his daughter Sam, played by Lily Collins, whose only two topics of conversation are death and herself. And then his son Rusty, played by Nat Wolff, whose most notable traits are loving Stephen King, wearing hoodies, and being sad all the time.

This movie could’ve been interesting. Instead, you just end up hating everyone.

Why? Because every character is cynical, moody, and generally unlikeable. No one talks about anything that real people would talk about. Instead, it’s all this philosophical esoterica that’s just meant to make the audience nod their heads and say, “Wow. These characters are so brilliant.” Or to just make us all feel dumb.

Sam, for example, has her first novel published at the age of nineteen. Okay, not completely impossible, but neither the actress nor the script convinced me to suspend my disbelief.

Also, Bill’s solution to missing his wife is to spy on her through the window whenever he happens to pass by (which is about thirty times, give or take). How is that a logical solution to the problem? Oh right, they’re writers. They’re too brilliant for us mortals to understand.

And whenever Rusty gets depressed about anything (which is all the time—the kid’s such a moper), his dad loudly asserts, “You’re a writer.” As if he should expect to be mopey all the time, like an occupational hazard. As if you can’t be a writer unless you’re unhappy.

The worst part about a movie like this, for me, is that it separates writers from normal people. The folks behind this movie seem to think that writers are, as a rule, douchebags. Yet I know a lot of writers, and the majority of them are perfectly pleasant, normal people. They aren’t misunderstood masterminds, they don’t talk about existentialism every second. Most writers I know are just people.

And I’m not just talking about my friends, here. David Mitchell, author of Cloud Atlas, happens to have a stammer when he talks. Virginia Woolfe was so good at cricket that her family began to call her, “The Demon Bowler.” Also, Stephen King’s favorite band is the decidedly unartistic AC/DC. They’re great writers, sure, but when you look past the work, you find normal people.

I’m not sure I can say anything more about this movie without puking, so let me just say this: give writers a chance. We’re not all annoying assholes. Most are pretty cool people.

What’s the Deal With Serial Killers in Pop Culture?

January 25, 2016 / Kyle A. Massa

So my girlfriend and I tried watching American Horror Story this season.

…And we didn’t get very far.

Without spoiling anything, the pilot begins with an L.A.P.D detective investigating a string of grisly murders, ostensibly committed by the same person. A serial killer.

Of course it’s a serial killer. Of course the crime involves gratuitous brutality that no one would actually have time for, plus some artificial ritualistic element. I don’t think the killer leaves a note, but hell, what self-respecting serial killer doesn’t taunt the cops a little?

This is nothing new, of course. Here’s a short list of serial killer stories off the top of my head: The Silence of the Lambs (plus a sequel, a prequel, a sort-of sequel, a spin-off TV series, and the original Hannibal Lector movie no one’s ever heard of), Psycho (plus a remake and a spin-off TV series), American Psycho, Dahmer, The Following, American Horror Story, From Hell, Zodiac…and the list goes on.

Oh, and they’ve announced they’re making a film adaptation of The Devil in the White City starring Leonardo DiCaprio as serial killa H.H. Holmes.

So yeah. People seem to like serial killers a whole lot for some reason. We seem to feel an innate magnetism toward some pretty bad dudes.

But why are we so interested in this stuff, even when it’s so unpleasant?

My first impression is that we consume fiction in order to immerse ourselves in worlds we’ve never been to before. When we watch movies or read books, we often expect to see that which we haven’t seen, to encounter people who are different than us. And if you’re looking for, uh, different characters, why not try people who kill other people in their spare time?

Furthermore, with any serial killer, the question of “why?” always comes up. Some part of us wants to understand why someone would kill others compulsively. Is it something in their past? Or is it something they were just born to do? Maybe the best part of those questions is that we never really get answers.

And another questions goes along with that: “what if?” If serial killers kill people for more or less no reason, then what’s to stop them from killing me or you? Your audience might ask themselves that very question: What if that could happen to me?

Perfect. When your audience wonders how they would react within your world, they’re becoming a participant in your story. Which means they’re probably enjoying it.

Lastly, fiction serves as a buffer between audience and subject matter, allowing us to watch and even root for the killer. We follow these people who only pretend to feel emotion, who use their charm in order to kill those around them—but we don’t want to get too close. I think that’s why it’s so unpleasant to hear news stories about mass murders, yet a story about a mass murderer under the guise of fictional film can draw millions to the box office. Strange, isn’t it?

People talk about serial killers all the time. They talk about them in books, on TV, in movies, even on podcasts. Even after writing this blog, I’m still not sure I understand the fascination.

But one thing’s for sure: this subject is going to continue killin’ it for years to come.

Sorry. Bad pun…

Podcasts for Writers

May 25, 2015 / Kyle A. Massa

Being a writer can be really lonely. In fact, the great Neil Gaiman recently compared writing to death, so that says a lot about the process. When you spend your time in a room by yourself, it can be tough to avoid the feeling that you’re all alone.

Sorry. That got really sad, really fast.

Anyway, if you’re a writer and you’re feeling lonely or maybe even a little dead, try listening to a writing podcast. Nobody writes in a vacuum, so it’s encouraging to hear what great writers are doing, what’s going on in the industry, and how you can improve.

These are three of my personal favorites, and, since I’m a bit of a nerd, they’re mostly oriented for a speculative fiction enthusiast. It is known.

The Geek’s Guide to the Galaxy

This is probably my favorite podcast to date. Hosted by writer David Barr Kirtley, the Geek’s Guide has amazing guests each and every week. Just to name a few: George R.R. Martin, Philip Pullman, Margaret Atwood, Chuck Palahniuk, Neal Stephenson, Ursula K. Le Guin, David Cronenberg, and Felecia Day.

Kirtley’s also an excellent host. An accomplished short fiction writer, he knows his stuff when it comes to fantasy, science fiction, and geek culture in general. One of his best moments as a host is episode 145 with Kazuo Ishiguro. At the end of the initial interview, Ishiguro turns the tables and interviews Kirtley on all things speculative fiction. These are two very smart guys going back and forth on where speculative fiction fits into literature and why it’s not always accepted by the mainstream. It’s a very cool moment.

Speculate!

Speculate! was my introduction to writing podcasts, and a good one at that. Hosts Brad Beaulieu and Greg Wilson work very well together on the air and they’re definitely knowledgable on the subject. While they don’t get quite the same number of high-profile guests as Geek’s Guide, their show is still pretty awesome. And, even if you haven’t heard of everyone on the show, it’s always nice to discover someone new.

Every once in a while, they also do roundtable discussions on particular books. These are great for writers because the hosts break down the author’s style, analyze entire passages, and even talk with the authors themselves. If you’re looking for in-depth writing discussion, you’ve found your podcast.

Writing Excuses

Though I’ve listened to this one the least among the three, I like it a lot already. Hosted by Mary Robinette Kowal, Brandon Sanderson, Howard Tayler, and Dan Wells, each episode is a fun and insightful fifteen minutes. That’s right–where Geeks’ Guide and Speculate! run about an hour, Writing Excuses episodes go for just a quarter of that time.

The official tagline of the podcast explains the runtime: “Fifteen minutes long, because you’re in a hurry, and we’re not that smart.” They’re pretty darn smart, though. They cover any topic a writer could think of, from agents to outlining to world building to critiquing. Each episode ends with a writing prompt too, which is fun when you’re looking for ideas, which is, like, always.

In conclusion…

Podcasts are really cool. The ones listed above are excellent resources for information on the publishing world, the speculative fiction climate, and just about anything to do with writing. They’re perfect for those days when you need a little inspiration. Plus, they’re free. And you don’t have to be a writer to love free stuff.

Go listen!

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P.S. Does anyone know of any other good podcasts for writers? I’m always looking, so if there are any you particularly like, please let me know!

Why “American Gods” is My Favorite Novel Ever

May 4, 2015 / Kyle A. Massa

You know that desert island question, the one about only having three things to bring with you until you’re rescued? I’m going with food, water, and American Gods.

Written by Neil Gaiman in 2001, American Gods is a picaresque Americana mashup of various genres and world religions. A war is brewing between old gods and new, gods of the ancient world and gods of technology. Caught in the middle of it all is Shadow, a stoic man just released from prison. Shadow soon meets the enigmatic Mr. Wednesday, and together, they explore a very different side of America.

American Gods has everything I love in a novel: vivid characters, memorable settings, an element of fantasy, humor, wit, stories within stories. Gaiman is a master of fascination; he captures our interest and never lets go. It’s the kind of book that only comes along once in a lifetime. I’m just glad it came along during mine!

The thesis of the novel, if you will, is simply brilliant. The old gods are your standard ancient pantheon of deities: Odin, Czernobog, Anansi, Anubis, Easter. The new gods, on the other hand, are those that we really do worship today, whether or not we realize it–gods of computers, cell phones, television, cars, and capitalism. The novel was written in 2001, but it’s amazing to see how relevant it remains 14 years later. In fact, I think the themes addressed in American Gods are even more relevant now than they were when the book was originally published.

American Gods contains an incredible amount of detail and subtext within its pages, much of which probably won’t be properly synthesized until after you do a little research on your own. It’s a potpourri of Norse, Egyptian, Arabic, Hebrew, and German mythology, with a dash of American folklore. Shadow meets so many gods and goddesses in his travels that you might not even notice who’s divine and who isn’t.

Of all the various settings in American Gods, the sleepy town of Lakeside is my favorite. Located up near the great lakes, it’s an insular community filled with its own cast of unique characters. There’s Hinzelmann, an old man with as many stories as he has years under his belt; Chad Mulligan, the friendly chief of police in the town; Marguerite Olsen, a cold but intelligent writer for Lakeside’s newspaper. The town itself is almost like another setting within the setting of America. But, of course, not everything in Lakeside is as it seems…

I’ve read a lot of fantasy, and one of the qualities I like best about American Gods is that it’s grounded in reality. That’s a weird thing to say about a fantasy novel, I’ll admit, but it’s true. The entire story feels completely authentic; there’s almost no need to even suspend disbelief. Gaiman presents his characters so convincingly that you can read the book and say, “Yeah, I’m willing to believe that there are gods in the world. Why not?”

American Gods is my favorite novel because it’s smart, insightful, entertaining, and eminently interesting. It’s one of those books that’s unlike any other, one that you’ll read once and compare everything else you read to it.

Do yourself a favor and buy the nearest copy.

“Whiplash” and Writing a Good Villain

March 23, 2015 / Kyle A. Massa

I somehow made it through awards season without seeing many of the Academy Award Nominated films. Maybe I’ve been playing too much Fire Emblem: Awakening with the shades drawn. Anyway, I’ve gradually started to see more of them. Last night, Whiplash became the latest.

The film stars Miles Teller as Andrew Neiman, an ambitious jazz drummer at a competitive music conservatory, and J.K. Simmons as Terence Fletcher, an emotionally abusive music teacher. The film centers on the relationship between Neiman and Fletcher, examining Neiman’s thirst for greatness that is only swollen by Fletcher’s search for extraordinary talent.

Though Teller delivers an excellent performance, Simmons really steals the show (I mean, he did win the Oscar). Anyone can yell and scream obscenities, but Simmons balances those scenes with kind, almost touching moments of humanity. In one scene, for example, Neiman glimpses his teacher meeting with a friend and his daughter backstage before a show. Fletcher says to his friend’s daughter, “I’m so sorry, can I have your autograph?” And then later, “What do you say, you ready for Carnegie Hall?” It’s not said with the biting sarcasm he uses elsewhere in the film, though; it’s a surprisingly sweet scene.

Simmons’s Terence Fletcher is certainly a villain; there’s no questioning that. But, like any truly good villain, he’s still a person.

There’s another telling scene toward the end of the film in which Fletcher reveals his teaching style to Neiman. He says, “…it’s about pushing people beyond what’s expected of them. And I believe that is a necessity. Because without it you’re depriving the world of its next Armstrong. Its next Parker.” And then comes the line that probably encapsulates the character best: “There are no two words more harmful in the entire English language than ‘good job.'”

It’s an amazing scene because Fletcher justifies his aggressive teaching style. And though we as the audience probably didn’t understand him before (when he was slapping students, hurling chairs at them, and forcing them to play into the late hours of the morning), we might understand him now. This is the mark of an excellent fictional villain: one who commits reprehensible acts, yet reasonably justifies her/his actions.

Now I don’t want to diss the classic evil dude archetype. The Anton Chigurhs, Saurons, and Freddy Kruegers of film and literature are often just as awesome as their more rounded counterparts. But that sort of villain is seen less and less in modern stories. Filmgoers and readers seem far more interested in villains like Terence Fletcher, speaking generally. Guys like The Joker, Jaime Lannister, and Hans Landa are popular villains for a reason. It’s because people seem to be looking for villains with well-rounded psychologies and compelling motives for their evil acts.

Whiplash certainly doesn’t pass judgment on Fletcher’s actions either way. In fact, at the end of the film, Neiman does become Fletcher’s greatest student.

And when the villain helps the hero achieve his dreams, you’ve got to admit…that’s a new (and pretty cool) kind of villain.

Winter Book Recommendations

February 1, 2015 / Kyle A. Massa

Here in Colorado, we got about six inches of snow last night. And when we get snowfall like that, there’s nothing I like better than to sit down with a book about…well, snow. Don’t ask me why.

So what winter books might I revisit this winter? I’ll give you a quick rundown here.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

It’s a case of old gods versus new gods in this 21st century classic. Shadow, a man just released from prison, has his world turned upside down when he finds out that his wife is dead. When it seems he has nothing, he has a chance (or maybe not) meeting with the enigmatic Mr. Wednesday. Together, they begin to assemble the players for the ultimate battle: new gods against old.

One of my absolute favorites. Widely regarded as Neil Gaiman’s finest work, American Gods is thoughtful, creative, and still timely, even though it was written more than a decade ago. It’s dense with memorable characters and settings, and the writing is clever and elegant. It’s so damn American, in fact, that you’d think that the author grew up someplace in the U.S. Though Mr. Gaiman lives in American now, he is in fact British.

A Dance with Dragons by George R.R. Martin

Okay, so this one doesn’t always have snow. The setting shifts from tons of snow beyond the wall, to lots on the wall, to a decent amount around Winterfell, to pretty much none across the Narrow Sea and in the South (until the epilogue, that is). Also, the next installment in this series, entitled The Winds of Winter, obviously promises even more snow.

I’m listening to this one on audiobook for the second time and enjoying every moment. Some people have criticized the exalted Mr. George R.R. Martin for broadening his scope too much and taking too long to write his books. Some have even whined that he might die before finishing his series. I’ll let George speak for himself on that score…

Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. No matter what you might think of this book, you’ve got to admit that there’s a heck of a lot of snow falling in the Seven Kingdoms. There are even two characters named Snow (Jon and Ramsay) to go along with the regular ol’ fluffy stuff.

Ghost Story by Peter Straub

This one isn’t necessarily my all time favorite horror novel, but it still deserves a spot on the list. It’s sufficiently creepy and atmospheric, and once the snow starts falling, the freakiness is only heightened. Plus, it turns that idyllic peaceful winter image on its head. Definitely an awesome book to read if you’re looking for a creepy winter’s tale. I wrote a review for it a while back if you’re interested. (Ironically, I read Ghost Story some time in July, when the only snow around was the icy buildup in the corners of my freezer.)

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What are your favorite winter books? Feel free to mention them in the comments. Until then, stay warm!

China Mieville’s “Kraken” is Delightfully Undefinable

January 17, 2015 / Kyle A. Massa

Like most of his novels, China Mieville’s Kraken defies easy explanation. Here’s the plot in a nutshell: someone steals a giant squid specimen from the British Museum of Natural History. It’s up to museum employee and supposed squid prophet Billy Harrow to find it. Though no one agrees on who stole the squid, everyone agrees that if it’s not recovered quickly, the world will end.

Sound weird? It is. That’s what makes it so awesome.

Besides Kraken, the only other Mieville novel I’ve had the pleasure of reading is King Rat. The two are similar in terms of the author’s seemingly effortless ability to churn out unique ideas. Like King Rat, Kraken uses the London setting in a completely original way, presenting it as an urban war- zone disputed by numerous supernatural organizations. I think of it almost like a gangster movie, except that the gangsters in this particular story are a sentient tattoo, a pair of psychopaths who share a single heart, and a man who comes back to life as ink. The more you read, the more weird–and therefore awesome–things get.

The scope of Kraken is far greater than that of King Rat, which inevitably leads to some confusing moments. The climax especially is a bit murky, introducing a lot of new elements and strangeness, all very suddenly. I had to read it back over a few times, just to make sure I understood what was going on. But, for those who have patience, you’ll find a satisfying and exhilarating final few moments.

Though the novel weighs in at 500+ pages, there’s never a dull moment. It’s an impressive feat on the part of Mr. Mieville, especially considering that he’s juggling quite a large cast of characters, all representing different sides in the conflict. There’s no classic good versus evil struggle in Kraken. Rather, the conflict is more of an intentionally obfuscated mess of not-so-bad, not-so-good, and downright psychotic fantasy characters.

Or, in other words, a whole lot of fun.

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If you’re looking for a fantasy/sci-fi/new weird/thriller/dark comedy novel from one of the most creative authors around, Kraken very well might be your book.

Rating: 9/10