No More King Kong's or Titanic's

The first time I saw X-Men Days of Future Past was aboard my plane from Vancouver Canada to Sydney Australia. (There were of course layovers in there) That was last October. I actually have a picture somewhere of my airplane TV screen twisted to face me, my fold down table in front of me with dinner and surprisingly good red wine, (all included) and across the TV screen is Erik/Magneto's face. I can still remember sitting down to the ten hour flight, (I think that's right) and deciding which movies to see. I chose the new Planet of the Apes and Edge of Tomorrow, saving the new X-Men for last.

I remember being disappointed by Days of Future Past. In retrospect, it's probably because I went in with the wrong expectations. When I sat down to see First Class, (admittedly only because my brother insisted) I began not wanting to see it because it was a set of heroes I'd never been interested in. Once I was hooked, (which was by the ocean rescue scene) I then braced myself for the inevitable ending. There's a blog post on here called Magneto Meets King Kong. It was to demonstrate that in certain movies, you know where you're heading. You don't sit down to Titanic hoping for a happily ever after. You don't watch King Kong and root for him getting down off that tower. You don't sit down to X-Men First Class and cross your fingers the central friendship survives. You can't. You know better.

Which was why for the sequel, I kind of "did" have my fingers crossed. I was disappointed to find that at the end of the film, Charles and Erik were as far apart as ever. More than that, I was frustrated with Erik. I felt that his character seemed inconsistent. I couldn't understand him. I knew that his cause came first, before loved ones, before having a home, before what he himself wanted. What I didn't get was how he could sit across from Charles on an airplane and apologize for everything, accuse his old friend of abandoning him as much as he'd abandoned Charles, going to such an extreme as to jeopardize the entire plane....only to then switch back to his own side, thus shooting Raven, abandoning their team again and going so far as to shoot on his own race by the end.

I wanted Erik to give it up. I wanted him to realize that what he's doing is endangering mutants as much as he's inspiring and protecting them. For gods sake, he was firing on his own people! He tortured Logan. He dropped a stadium on Beast and Charles. (Although he didn't actually know Charles was there)

I got to see the movie for the second time yesterday. Originally, I'd just wanted Coryn to see it since we'd been discussing X-Men. Then, mom wanted to see it because it had Tate from American Horror Story as Quick-Silver. After that, Caspian wanted in and dad followed. It turned into an Orr event. Dad made popcorn. There was pizza and some alcohol. And of course, there was razzing.

During the trailers, when only she and I were there, mom asked me why this was one of my favorite movies. (I hadn't realized until getting everybody to see it that it was) "I like the two relationships that play out opposite each other. You have the young Charles and Erik who have done nothing but betray and abandon each other. You also have the older Charles and Erik who have forgiven everything and want nothing but to stand side by side." (Which was, of course, what they wanted as young adults too) I thought it was a good answer to a question I hadn't even really considered before.

Mom commented on how much Jennifer Lawrence hated being painted blue for the role of Raven. (Mom wrote a book on her) Everybody noticed how Charles still has his hair and how healthy Beast looked now that the actor wasn't playing a zombie. (Nicolas Holt played the guy in Warm Zombies) We all went through the confusion of Erik's decisions. We all shouted and threw popcorn when Erik insisted on carrying an entire stadium over to the White House. (Erik can be a bit overkill, carrying a bridge when he's older, carrying a stadium as a young adult...) At the end, we all noticed how Logan was saved, not by Stryker, but by Mystique.  (I had not noticed this before) We wondered how that changed Logan's life? When we were done, we watched the gag reel. It was hysterical! It was as good as the Supernatural ones. Hugh Jackman is a doofus. Michael Fassbender still sounds weird to me with his Irish accent. Michael and James are adorable together, but not as much as Ian Mckellen and Patrick Stewart.

My favorite two moments from the gag reel?
(1) Charles awkwardness navigating his new wheelchair on the catwalk to Cerebro. (I read online he knocked Logan off the walkway a few times)
(2) Erik getting the helmet stuck on his head.

My favorite moments over all?
(1) Charles hitting Erik when he first sees him in the Pentagon elevator, only to then grip tight to his shirt front when Erik is about to make a very bad decision. (Have you ever noticed that Charles doesn't need to read his friends mind to know what he's going to do or even wants to do?)
(2) There being a chessboard in Charles' study.
(3) Erik looking at Charles at the end, in the stadium. Erik is frozen because of Charles. "If you let them take me, you know I'm as good as dead Charles." "I know." But Charles lets him go anyway. Like Miles letting Monroe live in Revolution, there's betrayal and then there's letting the person who betrayed you die. That's the impossible.
(4) Old Erik is wounded and dying. He reaches out to clasp arms with old Charles. "All those years on different sides, so angry-to have just a few of them back...."
(3) The entire scene on the airplane. Erik apologizing and of anything in the whole movie, I think he means it when he says  "I'm sorry Charles." I also think his betrayal is just as agonizing when he nearly downs the entire plane with the accusation of:

"Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee. Mutant brothers and sisters - all dead! Countless others have been experimented on, butchered! Where were you, Charles?! We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding?! You and Hank - pretending to be something you're not! You abandoned us all! We were supposed to protect them Charles!" ("We." They both always wanted it to be "we.")

But the best part of the whole airplane thing?

Charles: You took the things that mean the most to me.
Erik: Maybe you should've fought harder for them.

Erik wanted Charles to fight for their friendship. He wanted him to fight to stay by his side, not give up and let him go. He wanted to see Charles, who he believes to be the most powerful mutant alive, to show how powerful he was in the name of the mutant cause. Charles refusing to step into the worlds limelight and protect mutants was nearly as much of a betrayal to Erik as Charles not fighting to keep Erik from walking away on that beach in Cuba.

Erik: I've lost things too Charles.
Charles: You know nothing about loss.

Except that on that day in Cuba, Erik lost his best friend. He lost the family they'd built in the CIA base. He lost what up until that day had been his all-consuming purpose...killing Shaw. He gained his cause of protecting mutants from humans, but he lost everything else.

Erik: I didn't kill the president.
Charles: The bullet curved Erik.
Erik: I was trying to save him.
Charles: Why?
Erik: He was one of us.

Erik, even then, didn't want Charles thinking he'd outright kill the president. That scene of apology, of Erik bringing over the chessboard, even his loss of control and tipping the plane-they were all signs of somebody hurt and angry and betrayed, of still caring.

When I was in Australia, this movie started me down a path very similar to how Supernatural did. I learned all the actors names. I looked up all the movies they'd been in. I watched all the interviews. I changed the background image on my computer to Erik and Charles playing chess the night before Cuba, before Charles loses his legs and his hope. And it also drove me back into the world of fanfiction, a place I haven't been since Dragon Knights. I read some amazing pieces, such that Erik and Charles have become inspirations interwoven into my stories. I can still remember staying up too late reading about them and going to Starbucks or the kids café sleepy, but it still feeling worth it because my mind a whirlwind of ideas on friendship and how far it can be bent before it breaks.

Reading those online stories also inspired me with a thought. I think that if you took Erik away from the city, if he was somehow stranded away from guns and politics, he'd be a good guy. Strand him with humans or strand him with mutants, but I think if he was far enough away from the reality of his "cause," of his "inevitable war," he'd turn back into that man who helped Charles hunt down alienated mutants in First Class. Put him back in the Westchester Mansion, but fast forward 20 years to when it's full of teachers and students and I think he could live there. He could teach languages or history. He could drink brandy and play chess and that could be enough for him. In 1973, he has no choice but to be what he is, just as Charles has no choice. They cannot be friends in the age and location they live in. It will take their older selves to bridge the gap again. (Or being stranded on an island)

X-Men Apocalypse doesn't come out until next year, but I'm reading all the news. Oh, and guess what? I'm being a fool again and crossing my fingers for a friendship mended. No more King Kong's or Titanic's, but games of chess over brandy, where peace is the only option.

Don't Meet Your Heroes

I would never dream of telling another writer what to do. I would never dream of sitting them down and telling them what their characters can and can't do, limiting them as people and limiting them as authors. Critique groups have made this mistake with me, going so far as to say that my main characters should be cut, should be another gender, shouldn't be the main perspective at all. I know what it is for the world to not want me to write what I write. I know what it is to be the victim of gender bias and as a result, be driven towards using a male pen name. It is a good thing then that I write first and foremost for myself. It isn't for money. It isn't for fame. It isn't for the enjoyment of others. All these things would be bonuses, pleasant surprises, but come or go, my writing will never find itself in entombed in a cold grave. I am a writer in the same way that I am a woman, a daughter, a friend and traveler. I must be these things. I am these things. I am the sum of these parts.

I would never dare to tell my role model RT that she shouldn't stop writing. I also wouldn't sit down with her and say she shouldn't be frustrated by not being paid enough or getting enough attention. I don't have that right over her, but I do wish I could remind her of what she has seemingly forgotten. Writers write for the sake of writing. Our characters need us to, not our friends, our parents, our publishers or our wallets. If you stop putting out work, you won't see me planting myself in your path, but you'll see me confused and disappointed.

Then again, you should know, I'm already confused and disappointed.

You've been my writing role model ever since that day in Alaska. Yes, I was led to your books because of the Supernatural reference on the reviews page, but from then on, I was a fan of yours and not what TV show your stories resembled. From that second, you fueled my work. You were the proof that I could write on the topic I loved and get attention for it. You were the proof that I wasn't the only one driven to write these tales, the only person who thought her stories were believable and accurate and perfect just the way they were. I know, I admit, I put you on a pedestal. You couldn't live up to that. You couldn't possibly deliver on the image I'd painted of you, but oh RT, couldn't you have let me down a bit easier? Couldn't you have repainted the inaccurate image I'd made of you instead of ripping it to pieces as if you were a human shredder?

I was so excited when you responded to my email, when you talked about inspiration and muses and writing on the sort of relationships so few understand. I was thrown. I was delighted. I wrote blog entries about it and I told my mom and my brothers about it. You couldn't have made me happier. So what if it ended at one email? So what if I responded, but didn't hear back? Because within a month, I saw you had your own FB and by gods, you accepted my friend request.

I should have known better. I should have stuck by my own rules. Don't ever meet your heroes. Jared, Jensen and Misha, if they disappointed me as you did, it could ruin the show for me. I don't want that, especially now that they're my only proof that these stories of ours can be loved. You're so bitter RT. You're so angry at the world, at publishers and you don't even realize that you're taking that out on us readers. We'd do a lot for you. I'd do a lot. I'd write letters to your publisher. I'd advertise. Hell! Through me, there are three people out there that have read your work that wouldn't have if not for me! (Mom, Coryn, Jenna) I buy everything you write. I have a box under my bed dedicated to your works and own more than 6 copies of your first novel. I write entries about you, about how I admire you. I get inspired by your characters snark and inject that into my own characters and am thrilled at the result.

I could have gotten past your bitterness. I could have gotten past your seeming hate for children. What I can't get past is how you treat your fans and though it makes me sound young and petty, how you've treated me. I broke my own rules to talk to you. I continue to break those rules each time I post to your FB, but you ignore my praise, my support, my encouragement. You get worse and worse, until you made a post that essentially said that you can't pay for pet food because of how little money your fans pay and that you were done. You weren't writing anymore. No sequels. No prequels. No short stories. No tying up trailing story lines. You'd finish your main series since nobody gave your other works any attention and then you were cutting the apron strings.

I posted in response to that, making it my final one. (I blocked your notifications, because they upset me) I told you how important your works had been, how they helped me get through my first away from home trip (Alaska) how they helped me through my first major breakup, how they continue to comfort me if I'm stressed or alone or sick or anxious. I told you how I buy everything you write without even seeing what it was about. Just click, boom, mine. I told you how it was going to break my heart if you stopped based on popularity. What did you say back?

Nothing. You responded to the posts before and after mine asking questions about why you were bitter, why you were done, why you were so fucking angry.

Sigh.

I don't know what this is going to do to my inspiration, to my identity as a writer. As I said, you were what I aimed for, evidence that this kind of story can be published, can be liked and that I wasn't alone. Yeah, sure, all that's still sort of true, but you're quitting. You get that? You're quitting and you're quitting for entirely the wrong reasons. I'd eat pet food if that meant having enough money to keep my laptop charged. I'd give away my clothes and let my pets keep me warm if that meant my fingers being free enough to type.

I haven't written a word yet since I saw your post, but that was only two days ago. I'm hoping the universe will send me something to help, another series, you changing your mind, a movie, my own stories wrapping me up in a hug and saying "we can do that, not just her, we can." I don't know. I just know I can't go where I'd usually go and that's to your stories.

I also know this.

Don't ever meet your heroes.

Saying Yes to Immortality

Because I was beginning a new job, I've spent the past month rereading Cal Leandros, Doubletake. I finished it last week and was at a loss for where to go next. New jobs can be stressful and these days at the fencing and decking place can be long.

I got lucky. Mom knew how much of a fan I was of Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter. She knew, also, that I adored the movie and was intent on owning a copy. Thus, I was delighted when she brought home from the library a sequel to the first book I hadn't even been aware of existed! (Also, Henry Sturges being the young gorgeous guy from Mama Mia kind of blew both our brains) I am now rereading the first one in preparation of enjoying the second. While doing so on my lunch break, I came across a scene that was completely removed from the movie. In fact, the entire plotline was.

Abraham Lincoln loved someone before he loved Mary Todd. He met a girl named Ann Rutledge. He described her in his journal and described her to his friends excessively. The two bonded over a love of language and of academics. Below is a piece of conversation from the movie Lincoln in Illinois.

Abraham Lincoln: You taught me how to love.
Ann Rutledge: Have I taught you to like it?
[both laugh] 

When she died, Lincoln turned suicidal. (This is per the Vampire Hunter version) His friends were forced to strip him of his weapons, sharp utensils, even his belt. Alas, his friends missed the pistol beneath his pillow. He put it to his head and he wondered if he'd have the time to hear the BANG? If he'd see the blood or the gore spatter the wall, or if darkness would swallow him first? Two things stopped him from doing the deed. The first was the memory of his mother who had, with her dying breath, asked him to live.

The other was Henry.

The second Abe's undead friend heard the news, he hopped a horse and galloped for New Salem. He made Abe's friends leave. Inside the small room Abe was renting, Henry sat with him as he cried. He talked about lost loves and how time does make it easier. (A vampire would know) He talked about how lovely Ann must have been per Abe's regular letters. (Abe was excessive in his descriptions to all) And Henry talked of options. He told Abe he could bring Ann back. I think (personally) that Abe deciding consciously not to do that to her is what got him through. It had to be his decision and he had to make it with somebody he trusted and who understood him.

This entire plotline-Ann Rutledge/Abraham Lincoln-wasn't in the movie. I get it. It would have been a step aside from the vampires storyline. People would have thought it stole from Mary Todd's character. I do think it was a loss, however. (Mom sent me an article on Ann, since I wondered whether she'd been made up for the sake of the novel. I discovered via doing so that there's actually much controversy over just how close Abe and Ann were)

Opinion is varied on the ending of the movie vs. the book. The biggest difference is, of course, Abe's decision whether or not to become a vampire. In the movie, he says no to Henry. "There are more ways to be immortal than living forever." He tells his friend. In the book, he agrees. It is my hope that in the sequel, he and Henry are hunting vampires together. I'll get back to you on the results of this.