TRUKK NOT MUNKY Part 1: Furries

Welcome to the first of my three-part blog post about Steampunk and Furries, two very differently-perceived science-fiction and fantasy subgenres, both with large internet fanbases and not a great deal of exposure in the mainstream media. I'll be doing some comparisons, and trying to break down with can make both of these seem somewhat... unapproachable at times to people unfamiliar with the cultures, and why they can seem to be at odds with each other.

To explain first, the title 'TRUKK NOT MUNKY' is an internet meme popular with Transformers fans (well, at least people familiar with the tfwiki), relating to the advent of the new Beast Wars series in which the principal character Optimus was incarnated as a gorilla rather than a lorry. It's an argument that's both supportive and derisive of people who object to change within a given mythos. A more elaborate explanation is given here: http://transformers.wikia.com/wiki/Trukk_not_munky

To give this some personal context, I was into Beast Wars before Transformers, and entered into a sort of retrospective fandom. I did own original Transformers (well, Generation 2, I think), but didn't watch the series. I bought the animated movie after getting into Beast Wars and Beast Machines, which in my mind are actually better for character development and overall plot, setting, etc. So I get frustrated when people go on abusing things just because they're different. Franchises (and fandoms, too) need to evolve or they become dead in the water and left behind, practised by gnarled, over-protective fans with a fear of moving on.

Incidentally, I adore the TF Wiki. And Shortpacked.

So this post stems from a debate I've been having with myself for some time. After I attended the London Expo back in... October 2009, I think it was, in my first Steampunk costume, I was looking around the Steampunk panel and so impressed a Steampunk artist that he drew me and my impossibly heavy weapons. We talked, and I was really excited that he liked my Phoenix, but then he dropped in something that really threw my perceptions of the fandom. He was admiring my saw, and asked me if I wanted to join them later, as they were going on a 'furry hunt', and followed with something mildly disparaging that I don't really remember. returning home, and looking about on some Steampunk forums I noticed some hostility towards furries, and it kind of worried me. I don't know whether that's just the internet in general, mind you- being still a relatively fledgeling fandom, Steampunk is likely to generate hardened internet loyalists before anyone newer to such subcultures.

But still, having written Legacy, and continuing the tetralogy whilst creating my Steampunk series The Song Chronicle, is there a place for me in both fandoms, or will I end up being ignored by both? One is a fandom fixated with animals, the other with vintage technology. Can they mix? What creates the tension between them? This we shall examine...

Man's Best Friend
I'll admit, for having written Legacy I haven't given much attention to furries in my blog posts here, and I've put myself at somewhat of an imposition trying to distance myself from the connotations that the word 'furry' carries with it. But how justified is the prejudice? How different is the internet subculture that seems to be vilified on the same level as criminals and the most perverse of Internet lurkers? Actually...

In brief, a 'furry' is a fan of anthropomorphic fiction, artwork, movies, costumes, music and/or individual characters- principally depicted by animals or animal-people, or, more loosely, people with animal characteristics. But be warned, there are key distinctions that people on either side would gladly take you to task for if you incorrectly categorised them. 'Anthro' and 'Furry' have a slight distinction in their definitions too, if only to serve to separate something considered more mature from the stigma of 'Furry' by itself. 'Anthro' is likely the correct term and 'Furry' is the adopted nickname. I actually see them as different myself, but I'm in a position where I want to make that distinction, so I can't exactly be called unbiased.

Po-Ta-To, Po-Tah-To; Anthra-to...
So it's a selfish distinction, but I think it's an important one. To me, 'anthro' dictates something deliberately given anthropomorphism in a reality or story to distinguish them from humans. Examples to me include Watership Down, Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Dogsbody and Warrior Cats. They're still fantasy, but kind of... milder fantasy, I suppose, something not quite so heavily caricatured, and still within the context of a human world. They keep their basic animal physicality, for the most part. Which would make stories set in an entirely animal world, given personalities and physicalities (such as bipedalism, non-digitigrade legs, clothes and/or armour) 'furry'. Like Redwall, and, um, Legacy. So I've kind of defeated my own logics there, but oh well. Maybe I should learn to embrace furry a little more and make more of it. Maybe at the same time I can be encouraged to break the mould of furry fandom and convince others it's not all about the porn.

(NB: In researching my post, I came across an old but really interesting list of Furry Novels, where the books are separated into 'Animals Acting Intelligently', 'Intelligent Animals' and 'Intelligent Animalmorphs'. It's really interesting to see, and probably a more succinct description than I have, in all honesty. See it here.)

Essentially the terms are interchangeable. But it depends you as to how you want to address it, and the fans themselves as to how they want to be perceived. I've said before that I'm not a furry, and that's true (even though I twice cosplayed as Tony Tony Chopper from One Piece), but I have talked to a fair few. They're really nice for the most part, if sometimes shy, secretive and a little cliquey (considering the abuse they can get from wider society, it's not surprising, really), and it's a shame that the whole group gets vindicated because of the mire of porn that hangs around. It's not as if anime was any different when that was breaking out. For a time 'cartoons or animated porn' were its only descriptors, but now it's turned into a pretty well-rounded subculture and genre-crossing medium. And furry is the same- you have kids' films like Kung Fu Panda or Robin Hood, and currently My Little Pony, and then... the internet. And very little inbetween, save for what small efforts computer games and anime make to generate interesting anthropomorphic characters.

Like any subculture, or culture as a whole, furry has its weirdos with obscure, sometimes disgusting fetishes and has a fair share of introverted, defensive spokespeople and antagonists who just look to hate on it for its differences. But anime is exactly the same, and so are other fandoms. Complaining about furry gay porn and then singing the praises of 'artistic' shonen-ai or yaoi ('young boy' and gay manga/anime respectively) is somewhat of a double-standard: no matter how it's dressed up, porn is porn.

Having said that, I can understand some of the reasons why furry generates slightly more detractors.

It's The Fuzz
Before we even get into the obvious divisions between perceived bestiality and 'normal' sexual tastes, there's something more emotionally intrinsic within furries. Going back to my 'Werewolves vs Vampires' post, it seems like there's an introversion more inherent in furry than other fandoms, and that for a number of reasons. If you're looking at the characters themselves, they're able to wear their 'inner selves' on their sleeves, as it were, because the animal becomes a representation of a particular psyche. Not only have you got the cultural and spiritual associations of the animal itself, but you have the natural aesthetics of the creature, and that creates self-confidence. Combine this with the ideas that instinctive behaviours become more acceptable to show in this form, and you have a fantasy to escape to.

Fair enough, this doesn't go for all people- I've never had a 'fursona' and I'm sure a lot of people don't. For me, I love the looks of the animals and enjoy creating variety in characters and story as a result- they're visual (or literal) representations of the characters. But for others, it must be a huge release, especially with the internet opening up the world to people with undernourished social skills or contacts. Let's face it, who hasn't been shy and self-conscious at some point in their lives, especially during puberty? But I think the people who wear the costumes, moreso than people who just draw or appreciate the artwork, wish to be accepted for what they want people to see of them, and use the costume to create that, rather than the costume itself.

It's interesting from what I've seen of furries, they tend to be rather disparaging towards themselves and their own fandom, even within their comfort zone. Is it a kind of acceptance of their position and trying to diffuse criticism before it even has a chance to emerge, or the afore-mentioned introversion creating a lack of self-confidence? For being a fairly tight community there are some really deep rifts, and every so often tales of drama amongst community figureheads seems to seep down through the ranks and cause equal parts apathy, derision and name-calling on both sides. And for the most part it's a self-sustaining fandom, with its works created by furries, for furries, which creates a kind of perpetual motion of more of the same. It was admittedly very difficult finding an artist for Legacy's cover because I wanted to find a great artist with no porn in their back catalogue. ShadowUmbre (Minna Sundberg) was an incredible find, heh. But she's proof, along with many other artists, that furry art and culture can be accessible to a much wider audience if it wasn't quite so saturated with its own history.

But then, it's these characteristics that make it so unique. There are infinite shades across the spectrum from tasteful to outright disgusting, but it's up to someone who wants to make a real name for themselves in the wider world to show everyone the bigger picture rather than just trying to please those who already know them. I want Legacy to be a success for me because I love the story, but if it helped furries generally, that'd be fine too.


Next time - TRUKK NOT MUNKY Part 2: Steampunk
An introduction to Steampunk, the colourful personas that fill its eccentric anachronisms, and the darker side of the machines...

Literary Revolution, Anyone?

Well, I had the full intention of posting my Dystopias discussion piece... only to find that I'd already done it back in June. Good Lord, I'm out of touch. Bleh.

So anyway... If I'm honest I'm not really happy with how I've written my last two blog posts, if only because I've written them out of self-created necessity rather than a true honesty. It doesn't feel like my voice, and it's kind of a violation. Given the past few months' stressors and circumstances, I've not felt I can truly relax into myself for a long time and it does have a profound effect on my writing. Well, as far as I see it, anyway; someone who doesn't know me might not see the difference. The upshot is that I'm going to try and write in a more honest voice from now on. My writing is what I'd want an audience to appreciate me for as a writer, and I can't expect them to commit to something that isn't truthful. I've always believed in honesty, and I stand by that. Thus, without further ado:

Jamie Oliver Lives In Us All

My wife and I have been engrossed (and sometimes grossed-out) by Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution series, both in West Virginia and Hollywood incarnations. And I really feel for him, as a writer. Watching him try to change the processes of a huge, sometimes tyrannical industry really makes me draw parallels with getting a book published. In the same way that cooking your own food at home is fine if you're only sharing it amongst your family, so you can write a book just for yourself. But if you really believe in it, and you know somewhere along the line that your food is in some part worthy of being shared elsewhere, why does the industry insist on creating so many mass-market, generic meals which fall apart under scrutiny, especially when people ask for better?

The biggest reason, arguably, is money. It takes far less money to produce something already on the shelves than invest in a new creation. And anyone can swear blind they know what people want because 'there's proof it sells'. Of course it will sell if that's the only thing available. Clothing fashions are in large part dictated by a select few designers, who then pump out designs and collections to major retailers, and they're bought because they're there; the savvy shoppers know to pick up on stuff earliest to get ahead of the game. It amazes me the qualities of people who can buy something new simply because it's available rather than because they actually want it. Maybe there's some instinctive hoarding behaviour to be capitalised on as a writer...

But anyway, it irritates me to think people look at a pre-published book and say 'I'm not picking it up because it hasn't sold anything yet', especially if it's a debut author with no other works. To give credit where it's worth, though, an agent has to have complete faith in your work, and if they don't like it, then it's either personal preference on their part or you might need to do some editing. I'd be lying if I said I was fed up of editing, and feel a little daunted by the idea of writing something else just yet even though I should resign myself to doing so. I'd hoped for more success, I suppose, but you can never tell what's going to happen, and I'm running away from the point a little.

I don't mind so much judgements based on the writing; an agent/publisher shouldn't knowingly be investing time in a poor writer (ptchh, as if that ever happens...). But I do take greater objection to being told a story isn't unique enough, when publishers can be guilty of generating profit from more of the same stuff that's already on the shelves. I know a market has to be taken advantage of, but short of endlessly publishing repeat copies of the same book, everything will be different. A quote of Philip Pullman's has stuck in my mind ever since I read it:

"I don't believe that it's the writer's job to respond to some vague idea about what readers want. Readers don't know what they want until they see what you can offer. Nowadays, we're told, they're all asking for the next Harry Potter, but no-one ever asked for the first Harry Potter. It took JK Rowling to think of him before people realised that this was something they might like to read. The writer and the idea always come first, and are always the most important thing." -Quote from a book about self-publishing that I don't actually remember; I just have the quote. It was a good book though, if anyone recognises it >.>;

So with this in mind it begs the question: If people have read a book, enjoy it, and have proven to spend money on it, why isn't it worth taking a chance?

I understand the need for publishers to be selective. A company that took on every author that applied would go bust very quickly, and an agent that did that same would explode all over their office, leaving a greater slush pile than the one sat on their inbox. How much proof is proof enough, though? It's unfortunate that you can't just open your brain and show them what the ideas are that fit in your head, and the more I write the greater the part of me is that says I just need to shut up, deal with it, write more and write better. I hope I'm not the only writer who gets jealous reading about other people's successes, though. The article about the first Kindle author to sell over 1,000,000 copies was in equal parts inspiring and kinda depressing to see how much extra I have yet to do and worry about how much time I've lost, and, I suppose in a weird way worry about if I'm already too late for someone to have such a similar idea to mine that it's not worth bothering.

People who walk straight into publishing deals have no idea how lucky they are. They're probably very few and far between, to be fair, but I can't help but shake the feeling that there's someone just getting a default position somewhere. And it's stupid to think like that, but at the same time I see travesties of literature appearing like Snooki's... and I know no matter what I write, I'm at least better than that. I don't even need any reviews to know that.

So apart from Jamie's diligence in transforming kids' health around the world and the stellar job he's done in raising awareness of food nutrition, hygiene and preparation, seeing him run up against brick wall after brick wall by people in a position of complacency really struck a chord. There are a lot of differences between Jamie's situation and that of every struggling self-published author; principally that there's only one of him and millions of collective 'ones' around the world. But I have to view the impenetrability of the publishing world as the same stonewalling that Jamie received, albeit that publishers aren't generally doing it out of fear or dubiety. It is hard not to take it personally, though.

Next Post- TRUKK NOT MUNKY: Steampunk hates Furry?

Why So Serious? Dystopias and Post-Apocalyptica

There are many warnings of human greed or knee-jerk nuclear wars that leave the world in ruinous dust. If I'm honest, it doesn't make the future much to look forward to. Where's the hope gone?

Freedom of information can be a dangerous thing when it demonstrates the cracks in your world's safety. A whole wealth of information about recession, government corruption, climate change, drug statistics and a million other things can make you believe the Earth's a lost cause. Anything can kill you, or threaten to unseat civilization as we know it (especially according to the Daily Mail).  You begin to wonder what the point is. A story that runs over and smacks you round the head screaming 'WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!' won't help; more likely make you curl into a ball and mutter yourself into a safer existence.

I don't believe in being bleak. A favourite line of mine in the Glee episode 'Born This Way' is when Emma is seeing a psychiatrist for her OCD, and, being in denial, she says that it's part of her and she was just born that way. The psychiatrist retorts: "You're a guidance counselor. If a student came to you and said ‘I have diabetes,’ would you give them insulin, or tell them 'that’s who you are supposed to be'?" That's generally how I feel about hopeless visions of the future.

Not only can dystopias/post apocalyptic worlds be ultimately dingy and depressing (everything looks like rust, even the plants), too often they convey the wrong message about how to avoid them. I want to feel good about the effort I'm supposed to make, rather than chastised for doing nothing. I dislike the endless charity adverts that show lingering pictures of crying children or abandoned dogs, not because I don't care, but because it dejects me into hopelessness (they're also overdone, clichéd and ridiculously overstuffed with schmaltzy guilt-trip). Generally, unless I find a cause that I identify with and believe can make a difference, I feel more compelled to give out of guilt than by reasoning, and it disturbs me that the rationalisation seems to be lost- even giving to charities I know nothing about just out of guilty admonishment. And it's not a true acceptance of the change I'm making, it's just not wanting to have my ear pulled about it.

Frightening or saddening children with scary and depressing stories might work, but when you're adult enough to reason, you need a much stronger explanation as to why it makes a difference. You also need to show that it's easier than people think. The complicated terms that adults think in make decisions a lot harder, especially if they require considerable effort to put into practice. For kids, it's a no-brainer: something's wrong, so fix it. If a TV series or book is good, make more. Candid interviews with kids are amazing to watch for the innocent simplicity of their answers.

The Problem With 'Pocalypses

So how do you address a serious issue, maintaining the gravity of the situation and rally people to a cause at the same time? Hope. There has to be that moment that suggests things are going to turn around. That's what people respond to. Depression nurtures introversion, which doesn't necessarily equate to benefaction. Happiness, or hope at the least, creates extroversion through positive reinforcement and inspires motivation, communication, and the idea that helping others and using your voice to express a concern is the right thing to do. It's at least partly why people turn to acts of charity after a bereavement- they find hope, and the desire to see others survive perpetuates it.

Dystopias and post-apocalyptica make good settings for video games for this very reason- your purpose, as protagonist, is to make the world better. Whether for yourself or otherwise, the purpose and meaning behind your quest would be pointless if you got to the end and found out that all your work was undone. You have to feel like you're making a difference, and that requires reward for all your work. That's why the end of Half-Life 2 was so damn annoying, as you didn't even get to see the payoff (at the time, anyway).

While dystopias preserve more of a functional level of society, at least superficially, they're just as bleak at times- we're all alive and doing well but vampires, or mutated, or have lost all vestiges of our humanity. Great. It still serves as a warning, especially in books like Brave New World by Adolus Huxley, but the fact that we devolve into deranged, sex-crazed drug addicts at the slightest excitement doesn't exactly fill you with inspiration. Or it might, if sex and free-will eliminating drugs are on your to-do list.

I Am Legend (the book), then, treads a really unique middle path, where what begins as twilight for humanity becomes dawn for another kind of existence, and the balance is re-struck, albeit at the expense of everything we know. And through the horror of the end of the human race you see the justification of it in the eyes of Earth's new inhabitants whose civilisation actually becomes the better path for the world. There's a twisted kind of hope, but if you've been cheering for the protagonist it leaves you in complete shock. So that's not an ideal example.

Brave New World's contemporary, Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang, by Kate Wilhelm, bears similarities but has the greater promise of something good coming by the end of it. We're not the same, but somehow better. While at the beginning the human race is ending and struggling to come to terms with inevitable extinction, cloning technology enables more generations to be constructed, and groups can be assigned specific purposes according to specialised genetic structures. These clones at first cannot exist without the confines of company created for them, but as 'isolation' sets in, they begin to discover what had made humans 'human' before them, and it in equal part inspires and terrifies them. The terror of silence means they aim to, essentially, eliminate individuality and free will from all members of their race. By the end, it's clear that while you may 'create' a human for a specific purpose, it is doomed to extinction without these differences and idiosyncrasies that enable free, unrestricted thinking. The human race effectively dies out, but is reborn a few short generations later by virtue of its own recessive genetic memory. And even in a near-barren world, life grows, and the scars of the world fade.

Planting the Seeds of the Future

The thing is, what makes the story compelling to follow is the idea that things can change; you root for good winning out over evil. That works even if you hate the protagonist- you follow the story for the characters you like. Yes, create the jeopardy and ruin the world, but save it afterwards if you want to make people feel like saving it was the right thing to happen.

But if something's completely hopeless and laden with guilt, my motivation disappears entirely, and I don't want to invest emotionally in a situation that makes me feel bad every time I think about it. People are drawn to making the changes that are productive, both selfishly and through altruism. It's the same reason you don't give a homeless man a huge sum of money knowing he'll spend it on drugs or Crocs shoes.

The post-apocalyptic story I want to talk about most, probably my favourite, is Shade's Children by Garth Nix. This is one of the better adventures which maintains equal desperation and hope throughout. It's not sappy, far from it- the characters have to work every step of the way to secure even the smallest victory and escape with their lives. They experience horror and huge losses, but never stop moving towards a goal that ultimately reshapes the altered world they've known for years.  It's an incredible book, and it made me want to fight alongside the characters all the way, even after the end. It's not been through human error that the world's been all but destroyed, though, so that's a fundamental difference. But the establishment of a terrifying hierarchy rings true whether it's a dystopia or otherwise; something that, while maintaining power, works consciously or unconsciously to destroy everything beneath it.

A good book isn't one that patronises and tells you all the way through that it'll be all right. Sugar-coating the reality of the work involved or the dangers of complacency is equally as fruitless, not least because it's false (and generally boring). But you should still necessitate the idea that justice can continue, because that's ultimately what makes any sacrifice worth the price. I'm always fascinated by Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution as an example. Not that Los Angeles is a dystopia just now, though. Maybe.

That's not to say stories can't be bleak. I wrote a couple of Animatrix fanfictions that were dark and didn't end well, and I enjoyed them as much as anything else I've done. Each author should be free to build their story as they want, but I get fed up with being told how bad the world is and how little I have to look forward to. What a load of bull. Get out some and enjoy life. We're not on fire yet.

UPCOMING POSTS:
Why I feel like Jamie Oliver
TRUKK NOT MUNKY: Steampunk hates Furry?
She-Man! Beefing up Women in Fantasy
Steampunk 101: How to be the Future We Never Had Yet

Werewolves vs Vampires vs Teenagers

I hated puberty. The insults, the isolation, the hormones, the mood swings, pretending to fit in for fear of being alone, and anger at nobody taking you seriously. It wouldn't be so bad if it was just a week, but this thing lasts around six years. There's a lot to discover during puberty, and it's not always great. I look back at it with a real trepidation, wondering how far I've actually moved from those swirling insecurities and the restless, adirectional meandering between friends and ambitions trying to find what my true dreams were.

There is a comfort in mystery during puberty though, to an extent. If I admitted it, I sometimes enjoyed hanging onto depressive feelings; they were my problems and nobody else's grievances could take them away from me. It felt more satisfying to tell people that nothing was wrong even though I was lonely or jealous of everyone else's girlfriends or just generally pissed off. Being able to tell people would suddenly devalue them, either by comparison or because helpful advice would solve them. For the most part I already knew they were fuelled by hormones or rather superficial situations, and at the time I didn't want to lose that, because I wanted to have something larger to grasp onto in my life, something true to me. It's an odd, almost detrimental selfishness, and given that puberty's a whole swell of new, often quite dark or unfamiliar emotions it's not hard to see why paranormal creatures of choice begin creeping into our minds as allegories for our own transformations.

I want to suck... 
Vampires are not my favourite cryptid, I'll be blunt. I hated vampire films, books, tales, anything much to do with them. Even though I helped a friend write one. That was different.

I guess for my part they represented the more attention-seeking emotional lot that wandered around. I was definitely more goth-orientated when I was younger, not that I had the confidence to show it completely. Being more introverted myself, the goth friends I had who were into vampires always seemed to take what seemed like more than their fair share of the issues and attention that I wanted from those around me. They wore their feelings in their clothes- black, baggy, and hooded, as if trying to dress themselves in shadows and hide their insecurities. It's a mask, and anyone can attest that the clothes you wear are a reflection of how you feel about yourself.

Perhaps it's just personal bias, but I could see great parallels between the emotional state teenagers considered themselves to be in, and the aesthetics vampires seemed to provide. Sleeping habits are disrupted during puberty, and the excitement of staying out at night makes the prospect of activities in the dark (whatever they might be) far more exciting. A whole new fascination for life after 9:00 opens up once you're old enough to start asking questions and challenging your own boundaries. As your emotions develop, you also start experiencing more of the bittersweetness of emotions, the idea that things can be both good and bad, and that both can exist almost constantly within one entity. Anti-heroes and even villains become opportunities to experience the darknesses of life and actually wallow in them for a time.

The fascination with blood comes hand in hand with a sense of adventure and adulthood. The link between both vampires and werewolves with the advent of periods is probably too obvious to go into; monthly transformations and free-flowing crimson is probably all the description you need to make the connection. But more than that, blood signifies danger, risk and assertion, and an irreversible pact with whatever spills it. I can remember fantasising about wanting to protect something so much that I would throw my life in front of it, and wanting to feel that heroism within me. It didn't seem worth it without the spilling of blood, almost. And as a teenager, when you're struggling to find a way to express your emotions to anyone, friends or relatives, the frustration can become so much that hurting yourself, drawing blood becomes a justifiable, almost enjoyable pain. I've only done it myself once (I pinched part of my skin between my fingernails; hardly substantial), and I'll never do it again. But I understand the inescapable frustration, and with that the feeling that you know better what your feelings need to resolve themselves (usually someone being hurt or bumped off) and the 'rage superiority' that comes with being affronted. The idea that you could swoop down on someone of your choice in the night and suck out their life-force becomes immensely satisfying, and becomes an emotional quest for justice, whether it's against you or vigilantism for a friend.

Werewolf Bar Mitzvah

For werewolves then, the emotions are similar, but the expression is subtly different. As anyone knows, werewolves are normal people about 95% of the time, but every full moon turn into hulking powerful creatures and go on a rampage. Where vampires are consistently dark and brooding creatures, werewolves have a greater deal of balance, at least until the rage quotient builds up enough that they explode in a fit of fur, muscle and poor special effects. Werewolves, then, are better at concealing their emotions and have a greater disguise than vampires, who have to be more overt about their nature simply because they have a fundamental disability to do otherwise. Turning into cat litter when you step into the sun makes you more obvious than someone who inexplicably disappears once every four weeks.

While vampire-archetype personalities might revel in the emotional turmoil they feel and mutually licking each other's wounds (and thereby reinforcing the need for wounds to be greater), werewolf-types may well be embarrassed by it or feel they're unworthy of those same emotions. I'd refrain from telling others about my issues because I believed theirs had greater merit or urgency, or that nobody would be interested anyway. But I still got angry. While a vampire has precision-killing abilities, the anger a werewolf feels is more omni-directional, a rage against many things leading to a situation rather than a single vendetta. There are definite parallels between both, though: the aspect of darkness and self-isolation, introversion, an injustice or imbalance against something the 'creature' holds close, and the idea of a hidden power that could unleash deadly force if provoked.

And, perhaps, coming to terms with a sense of loneliness. Puberty teaches us so much about emotions and how different we each are, so the longing to find someone who we can share ourselves with becomes hugely important. Everyone at some point will feel like a monster or a freak, and for some those feelings will last a lot longer than others. We'll start to analyse what makes us different, and often there isn't an answer, something that leaves us trying to create one rather than be left without an explanation. The idea of transforming one way or another into a deus ex machina that can tear all our problems apart and rid ourselves of the need to ask questions becomes very attractive.

"But... what am I?" "Over-reacting. Now piss off and get on with your work."

I suppose it would boil down to what causes your angst and how you deal with it. The popular image of vampires of being dark, clad in leather and fiendishly strong is well-established in the media and will rarely fail to appease a budding pubescent with dreams of becoming equally impressive. Werewolves have far less to go on in media portrayals that aren't dated or fairly crass, so their image remains more internal and personal. It's easier to be a vampire not least because it ties in well with goth fashions and popular culture- you can see more clearly what you belong to. In return goth fashions embrace people who feel (or at least want to look) 'abnormal', and popular media enhances the 'lone wolf' image attached to it. Because a werewolf can look like anyone, you're wandering without a pack a lot of the time. Unless you're one of these spiritual therians, but... well... different strokes for different folks. I'm not judging.

It's always interesting when the next vampire movie comes out what they've done to address the emotional perceptions that these characters have. To be honest I don’t think certain popular teenage franchises have done anything good for either race, and I always wonder why it is that werewolves come such a distant second in the race for screen-time. Van Helsing was a crap movie, but at least the werewolves didn't look like the greasy, oversized rats of Underworld. Vampires get all the glory, in both good and evil, while werewolves seem to be the plight of the accidental and ugly. I guess majority perceptions of furries probably haven't done any favours to appeal to the eyes of Hollywood (I like anthro characters, but too much sex, guys, seriously). But it still seems unfair when there's an untapped mythos waiting to be unleashed. Vampires, for all their self-obsessed vanity, are dull and overplayed.

But maybe that's my inner werewolf talking.

Good Luck My Way

(Post title is the name of L'Arc~en~Ciel's upcoming single, by the way)

Time to populate this blog, I think. I've a lot to say about writing, and to chronicle my experiences in self-publishing and various forms of fandom. I'll try not to get too personal for the most part, but I'll always be happy to talk about the things that affect me most, and those that are closest to me.

Currently I have to make lunch for tomorrow though, so I'll wrap some meat around the bones of this blog another day soon. In the meantime, please enjoy wandering the pages above.

Thank you for coming, and please consider me favourably ^__^