The Beginnings of the Quest

 A guest post by Martin Greening.

Martin Greening Photo 3In seventh grade, a classmate of mine gave a presentation on his comic book collection. I had read a comic or two prior, but had never even considered collecting them in plastic bags with backing boards to keep them fresh and unbent. That Christmas, I asked for one thing from Santa, my parents, anyone: I asked for comics so I could start my own collection.

A few months later, while strolling through the aisles of the local comic book Mecca, I first discovered The Holt. What is The Holt, you ask? Only a gnarled tree in the midst of a great forest. Within the boughs of this tree lay magically shaped rooms that were home to a tribe of elves known as the Wolfriders. I had discovered Elfquest, by Wendy and Richard Pini, and it would be the start of a long and loving relationship.

The original story introduced such great heroes as Cutter, also known as The Blood of Ten Chiefs, his trusty companion Skywise, and twisted creatures like Winnowill and Madcoil. Cuuter and Skywise, along with their small tribe, are forced to embark on a trek from their idyllic woodland home. A trek that would eventually lead them on a quest to find their true origins. The story has all the makings of traditional Hero’s Journey. Joseph Campbell would be proud.

The Pinis shopped Elfquest around to the major comic publishers, but received no bites other than a tiny independent comic called Fantasy Quarterly. The first issue of Elfquest appeared in that comic in 1978, but the Pinis felt they could do better. They founded WaRP Graphics and published the rest of the story themselves. Since then, Elfquest has appeared under the banners of Marvel, DC, and now Dark Horse (for the upcoming Final Quest storyline). The Pinis’ tale is one of the great success stories in self-published comics.

Not long after devouring the four large graphic novels (which dominated the top of the fantasy and science fiction section at Waldenbooks) that comprised the original story, I came across a copy of the Elfquest Roleplaying Game by Chaosium. Yes, I was a roleplayer, Dungeons and Dragons and all that. It’s my brother’s fault. You try growing up in the same room as a sibling who is three years your elder and not absorb whatever he is in to. That game opened new doors for me. Along with my good friend Dennis, we created our own tribe of elves (called the Kindred). We created our own stories that featured the likes of Stormpoint and his daughter Springmist and the tribe chief Swiftscent (Dennis’s character). All kinds of things found their way into our stories, including a clawed glove that was exactly like the one Lion-O donned in Thundercats and even a dark elf (courtesy of R.A. Salvatore’s Drizzt) we named Orebender (because he could magically shape rock and metal).

On a side note, the Elfquest Roleplaying Game had character silhouettes so you could draw your own characters. My art skills have long deteriorated, but I’ve kept the drawings of many of the Kindred, which I’m happy to share below. Looking at them is a doorway into the past and brings memories of good times with friends, both real and imaginary.

Martin Greeing Photo 2

Sadly, my friend and I never wrote down any of the adventures of Stormpoint, but I still dream of their tales and parts of them find their way into my writing every now and then. Perhaps someday I will get around to chronicling their story.

To bring my story full circle (which is sort of ironic, as one Elfquest saga is titled “Kings of the Broken Wheel”), in 2012 I was fortunate enough to attend the Superstars Writing Seminar in Las Vegas. During one of the evening meet-and-greets, I sat next to one of the faculty whom I did not know, James A. Owen (who also contributed a guest post here at the Fictorian Era). We chatted for a bit about how he is a comic artist and novelist and eventually the conversation turned to Elfquest. It turned out James was a huge fan, so much so that he wrote the introduction to the second volume of the Elfquest Archives, put out by DC comics (it’s the one with the dark blue cover in the below pic).

Martin Greening Photo 1

That brief connection has rekindled my love of Elfquest and the stories I created as a child. The first thing I did after that seminar was go home and dig out Volume 2 to read his introduction. (By the way, James is an inspirational guy who has written about his journey in a fantastic book called Drawing Out The Dragons).

So there you have it. Elfquest: one of the works that has influenced me. You can read it online for free at www.elfquest.com. Maybe it will spark something in you as well.

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Martin Greening hails from Southern California and has been drawn to fantasy and science fiction from a young age. He is currently working on a fantasy adventure novel and several short stories. Martin lives in Sin City working as a IT guru by day and a dreamer of the fantastic at night. He can be found at www.martingreening.com.

Virtual Virtuoso

A guest post by Brenda Sawatzky.

Brenda Pic“I’m standing outside of Mindy’s restaurant alone about two a.m., thinking about nothing in particular, when it strikes me that I have not seen or heard from my friend Brenda for quite some time.”

Thus opens an email from my long-time friend, Jim. He is not inclined to banal salutations-“How’re you doing?”, “What’s new?” No, he’s too creative for that. Instead, the opening paragraph continues, inviting me into a short story set in a 1930’s gangster milieu. His cliché-riddled prose pours onto the page like a Damon Runyon tale, the protagonist-yours truly. It’s at this point that I long for a moniker more befitting 1930s New York-like Hazel Hubbahubba. Something with panache, edging on libertine.

It seems an odd place for a writer to get their start. But this is the exact moment where a sleeping writer-spirit awoke within me and took to the stage. For Jim, it was a clever way of saying “hello”; for me, it was a challenge. Within hours my fictitious riposte was complete, having dug deep into the archives of Google and Wikipedia for historical accuracy, and eluding loosely to the real protagonist’s life. Jim, I decided, would make a fine leading man. I hit “send” and giggled with schoolgirl delight.

Day in and day out, the exchange continued, the yarn growing more elaborate, cunning, and fantastical with every tap of the “send” button. The greatest challenge, you see, was building on a story that was being weaved, in part, by someone else. A plot was near impossible, the possibilities endless.

A few weeks in and I was hooked, like a fish to a worm, a carb addict to a bake sale. I found myself rushing to my laptop the moment my eyes opened to greet the morning. Had he responded yet? What would he do with the plot shift I’d dangled over the proverbial cliff the night before? Dinner burnt on the stove, the laundry piled up, and the dog sat forlorn next to me on the sofa, speculating over his self-absorbed mistress, wisely choosing to cross his hind legs rather than disturb her reverie.

Three months and fifty thousand words later a novella was born. The madness had ended. Jim and I shared a virtual high-five and then went back to our everyday. But the sun peaked over the horizon each morning and I had no reason to get out of bed. Kierkegaard said, “Boredom is the root of all evil-the despairing refusal to be oneself.” The doldrums had set in, but the writer-spirit was too fresh to be mummified just yet.

Employing the internet I began an arduous search for writer’s workshops, short story contests, anything to restore that feeling again. I wrote a novel and paid a prince’s ransom for a professional critique. I joined an online writer’s workshop pairing myself with an author-mentor, set up to teach me how to break into print. And I’ve started my own blog, a creative and fun way to flex my writing muscles.

I’m a bit of a late bloomer, I suppose. It took me a long time to recognize the voice inside my head as my imagination clambering to escape. I’ve been involved in a long-term love affair with words and have done a substantial amount of topical writing for committees, business projects, and the like, but I didn’t exercise my right to fictional storytelling until my kids were grown and life slowed to a manageable pace.

One of the most fallacious euphemisms in the world is, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” I just turned fifty-one. I don’t aspire to a Nobel prize in literary fiction (although one can dream) or even a review in the New York Times. I’m just looking for an outlet for an inner voice. A voice that’s moved from vegetative to vociferous. And step by baby step, the giant awakens.

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Brenda Sawatzky is a relatively new, unpublished writer hailing from the wide-open prairie spaces of southeast Manitoba. She and her husband of thirty-one years are self-employed and parents to five kids (two ushered in by marriage). She is presently working toward fiction and non-fiction writing for magazines and manages a personal blog.

The Heart Wants”¦

Cinderella

… what the heart wants. Right? As a kid, fairy tales were the reading fare. You know – Rapunzel (prince saves girl from evil witch and they live happily ever after), Sleeping Beauty (prince saves girl from evil witch and they live happily ever after), Snow White (prince saves girl from evil witch and they live happily ever after), Cinderella (prince saves girl from evil witch and they live happily ever after). The list goes on. And as a kid, I thought that was the height of romance.

So, when I hit my teen years, I had a firm foundation of romantic beliefs built up. What did I read then? I read Harlequin Romances (boy and girl have struggles, fall in love and live happily ever after). My allowance money went to belonging to a Harlequin book club.  I chose the Historical club. Every month I got a box of four to six novels that were some combination of medieval romances, western romances and regency romances.  I’d start with my favorite, the medievals, move on to the westerns and then read the regencies.

I read them voraciously and then would have to wait weeks for the next box. Back then, I’m not sure if my library carried romance novels or not. I don’t remember looking.  Libraries do now though, I’m happy to say. In between, I’d read fantasies, sci-fi, biographies and whatever else my parents had sitting around. But it was all on hold once I got my new box of romances.

I’m grateful for Harlequin romances for taking up where my fairy tales left off and providing me and millions of women with stories that give us what our hearts want. Not to mention being a major market for romance writers for decades. I still read Harlequin’s and my first dreams of writing included being published by them.

Fast forward thirty years and what do I read and write? Romance. Despite three failed marriages, and the occasional jaded cynic’s hat I wear, beats the heart of a die-hard romantic. My favorite movies are romantic. My favorite storylines in other genres are the romantic ones. Even when dramas and stories end on a sad or bad note, I always think – we just need one more chapter, one more scene and this can be fixed. They can have a happy-ever-after. I know it.

Is it naïve? Maybe. But what I love about romance is that no matter the journey I go on – thrilling, sweet, harrowing, magical, tragic – I KNOW that at the end, everything will be okay, the couple will be together and all will be right in the world. Okay, it probably is really naïve. I don’t care. I’m a happier person because of it.

This may be a really strange analogy, but bear with me. Romance is like a good natural disaster flick (2012, The Day After Tomorrow, Armageddon) which I also love. They’re hopeful. They end on a positive note. And I want that.

Natural Disaster:

  •  Everything is going wrong (global temperature shift/giant asteroid is about to destroy earth)
  • We rise to the occasion and fix the problem (mankind joins together in global effort to save earth)
  • When all is said and done, regardless of the fact that maybe the majority of mankind has died horrifically, mankind triumphs and earth survives. YAY!

Romance:

  •  Everything is going wrong (boy and girl have conflict – internal and external)
  • We rise to the occasion and fix the problem (boy and girl each overcome their own character flaws and whatever else is preventing their relationship)
  • When all is said and done, regardless of the problems encountered, love conquers all. YAY!

This is why I write romance. My heart wants happy endings. Now though, I want modern fairy-tales where boy and girl save themselves and each other from bad choices/tendencies and work to keep their happy-ever-after  happy. That seems more realistic, less naïve and still hopeful.

 

What do ya’ll think?

 

The Anime Effect

A guest post by Stone Sanchez.

StonepicIn my journey to be a writer, Anime has had one of the biggest effects on me. From the wayward storytelling of FLCL, to the completely epic outpouring that was Cowboy Bebop, the influence and inspiration it’s served for me has been phenomenal. In my last post, I covered how I was introduced to anime though Pokémon, and a lot of the different types of anime that exist. I’m not making a joke when I say that I’ve sampled and watched, in depth, almost every single type of anime that exists. Its presence has had a massive influence over my writing, how I perceive story, and the way my characters are presented.

When I started off watching anime, I was around six or seven years old. In those early developmental years, my common brand of story became a foreign form of storytelling. Goku (Dragon Ball Z), Heero Yuy (Gundam Wing), and Kenshin Himura (Rurouni Kenshin) were names that were just as big as Superman, Wolverine, and Batman. As I grew older, I delved more into this obsession that was slowly taking America by storm, and became one of those kids who flocked to the internet in search of anime. The why of it has to come into play at some point or another, and for me it was the storytelling. (Not so much in Dragon Ball Z, I have to be honest. Watching two guys beat one another senseless was all the story telling I needed in that one.)

In Gundam Wing, I discovered a sense of idealism that’s managed to still have an effect on me today.

“History is much like an endless waltz.
The three beats of war, peace,
and revolution continue on forever.”
-Mariemaia Khushrenada

Although I cite the quote above coming from the character who said it, the writers of Gundam Wing are the ones who put that view of the world in there. The idea of total pacifism, and the idealism behind giving your life for what you honestly believed in-no matter how old or young, really hit me. In the show, the characters portrayed were all teenagers, but they were fighting ardently for what they believed in. Honestly, my heroes were those five Gundam pilots.

Throughout anime I found characters like those young boys, like Kenshin. Hitokiri Batosai, The Manslayer. A wandering vagabond of a swordsman who, in his journey of repentance for the blood he’d spilt during the Meiji Revolution of Japan, took an oath never to kill again. In his story, this man was known as “The Strongest of the Imperialist” and had such a reputation that, if those who were hunting for him ever discovered where he was, they would take any opportunity they could to kill him. However, after he disappeared from the bloodbath that was the end of the Meiji Revolution, his past came back to haunt him. The current life he’s attempted to make for himself is invaded and he finds himself having to hold off the inner demon that exists inside him, while also defending those he’s come to love as his family; all of this with a reverse blade sword-a sword that is a symbol of his vow never to take another human life again.

In my own writing, characters like these have had a massive impact. Sure, Superman was always overly impressive, but there was a brand of awesome that came with characters that weren’t complete boy scouts. These characters knew the weight that came with having to kill, and often dealt with it in very unique ways-since there were times when killing their enemy was the only true path.

There were a couple of times where I’ve used the word “beautiful” to describe anime. The storytelling in it has left me speechless more than once, and in the case of Clannad, I was in tears. If anyone reading this has never watched a show called Code Geass all the way through, I suggest you do it as soon as possible. The idea of “destroying the world to remake the world” never meant as much as it did until I saw that show. The distorted perceptions of justice, peace, and the idea of flawed pacifism were burned into my mind by anime. I guess you could say that it introduced me to the idea of gray. Things weren’t always so black and white for the protagonist in anime, and sometimes those protagonist weren’t even heroes.

The main influence anime has had on me is that it changed my perception on how I viewed life in general. It sounds funny, but it’s true. I learned more than just story formats. In the same way that an author’s prose affected the way I write, anime’s storylines and passions had a heavy influence on me. Which is probably why some of the first stories I ever wrote was fan fiction of my favorite anime.

So, the Anime Effect has been that it was the format that made me love story enough to want to write stories. It made me want to be creative, and it led me down the path that would eventually have me writing stories of my own. In my own novels and stories, I can see hints of the heroes I had growing up, and traces of the scenes that I watched implanting themselves in my writing. Sure, it wasn’t the only thing that inspired me, but I have to admit it probably played one of the pivotal rolls. It got me writing.

Thanks, anime.

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Stone Sanchez is an aspiring professional author who has been active in the writing community for the past two years. Currently Stone is associated with the Superstars Writing Seminars, where he records and manages the production of the seminars. He’s also worked with David Farland by recording his workshops, and is currently the Director of Media Relations for JordanCon, the official Wheel of Time fan convention. Often referred to as the “kid” in a lot of circles, Stone is immensely happy that he can no longer be denied access places due to not being old enough.