awalkonthewritersblock

Game Review: Alpha Protocol

2010-06-06T15:26:00.001-07:00

Big picture thrills misses out on little details

I was excited when word of Alpha Protocol hit me. It was the union of two things that I really enjoyed: Obsidian RPGs, and the espionage/spy genre that you rarely see in the role-playing arena. And having been bombarded by ads for it while keeping up with 24 Season 8 on Hulu, well, I just had to get it when it came out.

It was a pretty big disappointment.

Before I get into anything, I have a message for Obsidian Entertainment: Guys, come on. You've made hit RPGs all over the place. How'd you drop the ball on this one? There are design aspects in your other games that you totally missed using in Alpha Protocol that could have really saved this title.

In brief:

Pros:

- High octane storyline

- Stunning visuals

- Sweeping environments make you feel like a globe-trotting secret agent

- On-the-fly conversation system

Cons:

- Interspersed flash-forwards makes the story a little hard to follow

- THOSE @#*(%$@# ALARMS!!!

- The VO for the main character was terrible, and you hear him the most

- Lack of customizeability for the main character (Done before in KotoR II and NWN II)

- Clunky stealth system

- Those damn doors that magically lock behind you

- Shooter system rewards slowness over action

- Poor controls (PC Version)

In Alpha Protocol, you play Michael Thorton, new recruit to the Alpha Protocol unit. One thing you can be sure of is Obsidian can deliver a story. Which was why I was unhappy to discover that the story they delivered was hard to follow. Something I learned a long time ago as a writer is that a plot twist can't be a twist just for the sake of turning around perceptions. It has to mean something to really hit home. And one of the first things they try to saddle you with is the flash-forwards.

I won't go into details to keep this review spoiler free, but try to imagine being a secret agent not knowing who the villain really is, and then seconds later flash-forwarding three months to a conversation with the villain. Now, generally, lets say in a movie, this wouldn't really be a problem. But Alpha Protocol is not a movie. A lot of players it might induce meta-game thinking. Armed with knowledge from the future and able to make a difference in the past, you immediately set your sights suspecting certain people. While there's some certainty in this method, what really becomes of it is this: if you're right, then the game just gave you the answer. If you're wrong, then the game planted a very, very cheap red herring, and wanted you to delve into meta-game thinking to be purposely mislead. Moreover, it's always disorientating to hop forward three months to have a discussion after being in a pitched gun fight with terrorists. Neither of this is very becoming for the writing team. The game wouldn't be lessened without these disruptive interludes.

As for gameplay itself, it suffers on several fronts. Apparently, the game gave me some perk of being some genius of stealth, but I've tripped at least four or five alarms every game. And why? Because as soon as you engage an enemy in a room that has more than one (which is fairly often), at least one is guaranteed to go rushing off to hit the alarm. Now, it's true, you could go for the silent takedown, but at best you've got a slim chance of making sure the others in the room don't notice the body hit the floor, bullet holes in the head. The only real way to silently take someone down is to engage them at melee from behind, which begins a rather well-animated set of martial arts moves, whether it be throws or chokes, to silently disable an enemy. Which puts you out in the open and out of stealth after you complete it. So you're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't. Also, more often than not, you will find that you can approach an enemy in stealth mode, and they will see you at the last second and magically their guns will appear at ready to blast your face full of shot. And you will have swung in hopes to actually trigger the takedown attack, but instead you just backfist the air and take another load of shot in the face.

So, screw the stealth system, you say? Then come the alarms. They'll screech at you all level. There will be a brightly flashing icon in your screen while they're on. And then you have to play a minigame where you trace numbers down convoluted lines in the right order to shut the alarm off. And you will play this game a LOT.

Another point to touch upon is the shooter aspect, which tries to marry the RPG element with a shooter system that just doesn't quite hit the mark (excuse the pun). While you are in a fire fight, a hail of bullets flying over your head, to get a successful shot you need to wait. Yes. Wait your turn. Wait for the tiny triangles to slowly crawl to the center of your reticle while wildly firing squads of enemies spray walls of lead your way. There are ways to decrease the time it takes to line up the shots, but they're at RPG scales instead of shooter scales, and shooting really just doesn't lend itself well to the RPG element. It needs to be fast, because all around you, the action is even faster.

And as a blatant slap in the face to the RPG genre, there are areas where doors will lock leaving the places you just passed through suddenly completely inaccessible. Just remembered you had a side objective to do? Well, it's too late now. You can't go back. Ever. You just have to reload, or wait until the next run through. For a game that tries to get you to live with the consequences of your actions, locking doors is a little extreme.

Personal note: As a martial artist, the skill that I invested in the most heavily was the martial arts skill. I was sad to find that no matter how advanced I reached in that skill (and apparently the character you played had even done well in the Olympics), the coked out mob lord with his tiny coke knife gave me more trouble than the Olympic boxer bodyguard. Why? Well apparently, in all of his years of martial art-ing, Michael Thorton has never learned to block.

And apparently snorting coke gives you temporary invulnerability to incendiary devices, hollowpoints, and shotgun shells.

The Final Word

Alpha Protocol is an ambitious project. It tries to run the line between shooter and RPG, but pitfalls of both genres that were easily issues of oversight in the past come back to haunt you in this game. Combined with an awkward combat/stealth system that really slows down the action in what was supposed to be a pulse-pounding thriller of an espionage game, and you get down to the reason why the line between the two genres was drawn in the first place. While it was a great attempt at what it was going for, it often fell short of its mark--but for reasons that could have been avoided on its way to discovering the real pitfalls of why these two game types have rarely been able to meet in the middle.

New Story, New Look

2010-06-02T10:18:00.000-07:00

I've been pretty absorbed into writing lately (much to the chagrin of my social life and waistline) but it feels like a very worthy pursuit.

Recently, I've backburnered a project. It was only a passing thought, which came to full bloom during a writing class. "Orpheus" is a project worth taking some time on. "Ben", well, I can write that one however I want.

So to reflect that I am going to finally complete a story (of a completely different vein of what I've been writing!!!) I'm going to change the layout of this blog. And try to post more.

Ben is a story that I hold close to my heart so it'll be a good, smooth write.

The effort to blog more comes from the need to have my writing shared, instead of hermiting on things like Orpheus, and never coming out to see the light of day.

Time for some random statistics!

Orpheus Nonconsecutive Page Count: 843 pages

Ben Nonconsecutive Page Count: 17 pages

Oh boy. Haha. Hopefully none of that 843 goes to waste.

I need to blog more.

2010-06-02T10:17:00.001-07:00

Here goes.

Ode to Chinatown

2010-04-17T00:08:00.000-07:00

Prospective opening for my manuscript. Hope you enjoy it!

The plains of America are asphalt and pavement. Its forests are telephone poles and traffic lights. Its mountains are glass and steel, and have names like Empire State, Chrystler, and Transamerica. Its blood is currency, and its heart is media. But its soul is the people, and some people still believe in a world that exists anywhere but where they are now.

Where imagination bears witness to heroes and fills the shadows with unspeakable things. Where currents of dreams fill seas, where the moon has its own light. Where man can walk alongside gods.

One of these places is in San Francisco Chinatown. Not many people know about it—because not many people realize it. It’s not unique, insofar as the spiritual stock. After all, it takes a lot to cross an ocean to a place that stands an entire world apart to try and make a life. It takes faith, and the people who built their lives there brought it with them. It’s why it’s still standing, after earthquakes and citywide fires tried to take it. Faith can make for the sturdiest of foundations.

Thankful

2009-11-24T02:46:00.000-08:00

I can't say I've had the best time of my life lately. I think I've had a lot of bad things happen to me, starting around when I turned 20.

Let's not get into those.

Fact is, I don't know what's what anymore, sometimes. I think since the last time I morphed into robot mode, a part of me stayed metal. Kind of unfeeling, all the time.

I think I hit rock bottom between 06-08. Wherever I was, I always asked myself, "Is this where you really want to be?" It's pretty embarassing to admit it, but I kind of forsook anything that made me who I was. I stopped writing, I stopped training, I stopped being fun in general when I think being fun is a requisite for a well-rounded day. I hit 195 pounds. Holy hell. I jumped like 40 pounds in 3 months apparently... It took all that I had to make sure I never went over 200, because that'd be freaking ridiculous. I think going back home kind of did that to me--I distinctly remember graduating with hopes and dreams and plans and going back to Norcal was like the reality check that dislodged all of my best laid post-graduate scheming. Thing is, I didn't seem to care. That was probably the biggest mistake.

But things are much better, now. They aren't remotely good, or fair, no. Finding work in this economy is like carrying an infinitely deep pail in a rainstorm and no cover in sight.

But I'm healthy (a strapping 160 now, back in fighting shape at least), my joint pains that are still present at least don't bother me, I have money, I have plans, I have my dreams back, and I have still not found that oasis (or roof) in this storm of life, but it's a little easier to bear. So here's to the people that made it possible.

Let's not get into the mushy details, because heaven forbid that someone should read this and think I've gone soft. Let's just say there's certain individuals out there who when I was at my worst helped me stay sane, and when I was figuring stuff out, helped me along the way. I don't have to name names. You know who you are. If you're not sure, you can ask. But do you really have to ask?

But most of all, there are these people in my life that have kind of filled a gap for me that has been gaping since that day in '05 where everything really started going downhill.

To CAMA, for making me remember every time your name comes up that I did something notable in college instead of just getting good grades--now if I only had both XD

To ManTime Inc., we'll make it happen. Thank you for supporting my subsidiaries in the meantime.

To far-flung friends who I see once a year but still find the time to talk to me--making time for me even when I am bad at visiting is probably the kindest thing that anyone's done for me lately.

To the company, it's fun and exciting and new to me, and it definitely breaks my stride to be one of you. It's exactly what I needed. Thanks for this experience, and the experience to come.

To the people who always make sure I am well-fed every holiday that I don't spend with my family, thank you for inviting me over. It really means a lot :)

To the ones who serve as my super-ego, you're awesomely patient for keeping me on track all these years.

To the boys, thank you for your unwavering support while I chase down my dream. Your encouragement keeps me going.

To the beasts and kickers, god we're so retarded. I have the most fun that way.

That's just to start with. I don't want to tailor this down to specifics, but it's just that I'm very thankful. Because I don't have the perfect life. But you guys make it pretty damn good :)

Dancin', Dancin'!

2009-10-19T00:27:00.001-07:00

It's been a hectic week and a half getting ready for the Remembrance Concert. It's the latest in a series of undertakings that I do to try and break my comfort zone barriers.

I haven't danced since high school. I was a different build, a different energy level, a different level of dedication than I am right now, and let me tell you it hasn't been easy trying to get back on the horse.

It's been rehearsal after rehearsal, constant changing of choreography, costuming, timing, and all the while I am also working on my writing portfolio to submit to grad schools so I can get going with that ASAP. If I'm not dancing, I'm writing. And we dance probably like 8 hours a day now.

The scariest part for me so far I think is the freestyle 8 counts. I wouldn't count myself a dancer. I'm generally possessed of better than average coordination, I think (although there are times that I begin to question that this experience, my brain feels like its full of dancing and writing right now and it can't choose to focus on any one of those things) and I just try to copy choreography and not get too technical about it. But I got like 3 solo 8 counts and it hasn't been easy trying to do it without the wushu training getting in the way.

I really have been having a lot of fun though. It's nice to just do this. After what Profe Versatil said about dancing and martial arts being hand in hand, I think I have to take a greater interest in it now to just be better at movement in general. I never really had anything against dancing, but I figured I'd do it eventually. Eventually falls onto the list of "things that I like that I'll probably never get around to" but I guess this experience is making it an exception. I feel like a beast of burden though--I'm only there because I can do some acrobatics and I have enough strength to pull off a decent freeze. There's nothing behind it when it comes to technique though, so I just get a tight neck afterward.

It's great though. I think I will look into doing more.

Review: Sharkwater

2009-10-04T14:42:00.001-07:00

Been much busy with apps but not so busy that I've ignored my training routine. So while I stretch lately I've been watching some shows, documentaries, and even movies, and in an effort to get my brain off of grad apps it's refreshing to get another take on (non)fiction and clear my head for things to come. Here's a recent watch.

I felt an immediate kinship with the narrator, and immediate revulsion. The kinship came from a childhood interest in marine biology and sharks in general. I love the ocean and I always thought sharks were cool, especially after Jaws. Dinosaurs also fall into that category. What is it about being a kid that makes you like things that can swallow you whole? We may never know.

The revulsion came from the voice. Rob Stewart (which I kept thinking "Rod Stewart" for most of the watch) is unforgiveably nasal, a trait which imbues revulsion upon me from other media characters such as that one guy from Backstreet Boys who beats women and cries about it, and Seungri from Big Bang. But I can be a little bit lenient on the guy, after all he's a marine photographer and probably hasn't been through Juliard or anything to deal with his diction. Also he's from the Hat of America, which gives his voice an unusual twang that enhances the nasalness (which makes his voice give out at odd instances) but I'm being nitpicky. This is a documentary about sharks after all. I shouldn't be going after the guy who made it.

Except that, it was a lot about the guy who made it. Actually it was extremely tiresome. Complicit to this self-loving scene is the poster that they used to advertise it. There's two versions, and both put Rob Stewart in the foreground as if he was going to present us with the Free Willy of shark documentaries. It's revoltingly narcissistic. And at the end we get the culmination of an ego-trip that has begun as a slow leak from the opening scene of Rob walking across a lonely beach to a scene of a be-speedo'd Canadian filming himself cavorting with sharks, including a scene which apparently is just a shot of him swimming while holding the camera pointing at himself. For like, a really long time.

the good

All of the director/writer/producer/unnecessary speedo modeler aside, Sharkwater is a really good watch. It does bring to light some of the inequities that sharks have faced in the world at large, though it could use some more scientific backing. Most of its science comes from statistics that are printed in intervals across the length of the movie, dispelling myths about sharks were they believeable. There are very few actual authorities on the topic interviewed, however, and this shortcoming really does overall hurt the film. But as a shark enthusiast and an environmental (in-)activist (I care, but I care about say grad school right now more), I find truth to the purported facts, just presented with a bit too much of idealistic zeal. Also there are some interesting political ramifications concerning the illegal finning operations that are apparently occuring in South America, and the Sea Shepherd campaign in the area. While this becomes central to the documentary's overall timeline, it again does detract a bit from factual backing that they could have provided. But it was exciting, and a good, eye-opening piece of the overall film.

the bad

Rob Stewart, if you ever read this, take a good look at yourself in the mirror. Do that for two hours. That's pretty much what you subjected us to. Well, okay that's hyperbolic but really how are you gonna name the documentary "Sharkwater" when it's really more like "Robwater, feat. Sharks". We get it. You love sharks. We also get that you love yourself. 'Nuff said on that.

A point of contention: I'm slightly offended of the representation of the Asian culture. Sharkwater presents Asians, particularly Taiwan and Hong Kong as anachronistic dilettantes who must indulge in shark fins as status symbols and as panaceas in place of modern medicine, and that, well, simply is not true. Sure, there was that nice lady getting married who said "no shark fin soup in MY house!" but that was more like a fledgling acknowledgement that a balanced perspective when criticizing a culture must be presented. It does nothing to the broad-reaching use of words like "they" and "they're" to generalize Asians in general as robber-barons of the seas.

the final word

You love sharks? It's definitely worth the watch. Some of the ocean cinematography was gorgeous (testament to the filmmaker's true expertise), and broad sweeping melodies really capture the moment alongside within the film's soundtracks (although there are some bleeding heart ballads thrown in for gregarious effect). And while a bit hamfisted, you can believe, with a grain of salt, everything Mr. Stewart has to say about sharks.

You love Rob Stewart? Even better. Except, I didn't care for him at all, so, negative on that.

grade: C

Excellent topic, bad in execution.

Irony

2009-09-28T21:46:00.001-07:00

Ironically, I've joined Twitter. I think its because it's easier than posting short soundbytes on a blog. Just like this.

A Very Simple Truth

2009-08-03T14:04:00.000-07:00

Here is the reality of the world today:

If you're not connected, you don't exist.

I'm talking about Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, blogs (even one so unupdated as this one ;) and things like that.

I don't really do much on the internet other than absorb information. I don't disseminate the contents of my day because I don't feel the need to. I believe that everyone has their own things to do, own lives to live, and can take the time to observe my own. On the flip side though, I tend to find that my friends who frequent these sites not only end up repeating the same "How are you doing?" line of questioning as if I had never seen them the time before or the time before that, but also tend to assume that inactivity on the internet seems to imply inactivity in life.

So yes, friends, I am alive. I eat, I sleep, I do smart things, I do many more stupid things, and I watch for fun things to come. I wait for job interviews, I work on my manuscripts, I work out, I train, and I am quite happy with the way things are. I don't facebook for a couple of hours every day. I check my email for a grand total of one minute combined, just waiting to see if there are any relevant updates. I pay my bills on time. I have my doubts, and my worries. But that's life.

I'd like you to be a part of it. But you gotta do things my way. If you can do that, then I'll be happy to call you a friend.

Let's Go Swimming

2009-06-28T15:44:00.000-07:00

I find this article really fascinating:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31528230/ns/technology_and_science-space/

There's something about oceans thousands of miles away that just strikes a chord with that inner explorer.

Also, I have not posted in one month. Bad writer. Bad.

Time to Work it Out

2009-05-29T21:11:00.000-07:00

This made my day.

The Minutes Between

2009-05-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

"Twice a day for ten minutes at any point in the world, barring knowledge of cardinal directions, is a span of time when no one can tell if the sun is rising or falling, the night coming or going. The sky takes an indigo-turning-black, but the eyes can still make out every detail of everything around them, like nighttime in the movies, though viscerally natural. It is a transition; a heartbeat as the Earth blinks or opens its eyes, draws back the veil, and reveals a world cloaked in shadow, plain as day."

I wrote this earlier today as a part of the story I'm working on. I've been fascinated by the long hours I've put in that afford me the ability to witness this unusual event: that for ten minutes, dawn or dusk, you can't tell if the sun is coming or going. It's an experience. If you remember this around one of those times, just stand there and try to imagine the sun doing the opposite of what it should. The world can turn upside down if you try it hard enough.

Guilty Pleasure Wednesdays: Puppies!

2009-05-27T11:21:00.001-07:00

<< "Take me to your leader" (courtesy of jcdprints)

If you know me well, you'll know I have a weakness for puppies. Its like kryptonite. I think everyone should grow up with a dog. It helps one to become a well-adjusted individual. I'm pretty much an all around animal lover, but I definitely attribute dogs, especially when they're little, with what makes the best in having a pet really shine.

Yes, no one really expects this. Me, a strapping young man with a big macho beard, a guy who spends his free time doing punching and kicking and flipping around, swinging swords and breaking boards.

Except that I trim it to whatever is popular in Japan right now, and the martial arts I do is flashy and completely useless in a real fight as are my floppy spring steel swords, and having just disclaimed myself as anything even remotely macho, this means, yes, I really do like puppies for puppies, and no, I'm not some douchey guy who just says so to get girls to warm up to him. And to guys like you, for shame. You're a few degrees off from using roofies. Here's why.

Puppy dog eyes can increase levels of oxytocin. One part of this hormone triggers "maternal instincts" and "bonding" when it is produced, and apparently, according to this article, playtime with pups can actually trigger oxytocin production, instinctively causing humans to bond and trust their dogs, leading to the stress relieving effect that advocates of pup-therapy espouse as their most theraputic and healthy trait.

In conclusion, dogs are drugs. They express hypnotic suggestion through their big dark puppy dog eyes that make your brain secret hormones that make you think you're relaxed. Just kidding. Really, think about it.

It's cute. Furry. It's always happy to see you. It wants nothing more to play with you, and it will listen to you whenever you need a big floppy ear. Man's best friend indeed.

Here's some awesome sites that I peruse from time to time to get my pup fix.

http://www.cuteoverload.com
This site has a great selection of other great animal pictures in other categories, but I visit the pups one the most.

http://ihasahotdog.com
Following in the traditions of lolcats comes the premiere loldog site on the internet.

http://www.dailypuppy.com
For enthusiasts who just want to click through picture after picture.

Enjoy!

*I'm trying to write shorter posts. Woe unto my poor readership that has to suffer through text walls, but unfortunately I cannot do pups justice for today.

Busybusybusy!

2009-05-22T22:31:00.001-07:00

Sister's wedding is tomorrow. Will continue blog soon! Gonna do a double feature GPW this coming Wednesday so stay tuned :)

Supernatural Season 4 Review

2009-05-15T12:37:00.001-07:00

I watch Supernatural.

This could eventually go under Guilty Pleasure Wednesdays, primarily because...(okay I'll come right out and say it)

It kind of sucks.

I'll give you a moment to spit fire and venom at me. Done? Great, here's why.

I think it began when the show moved its focus from monsters to Angels, which seemed like a good move to begin with since this massive demon war was central to its overarching plot, but the 2nd act is where, as they say in Hollywood, "the desert where the dream may die".

But has anyone noticed the weird little signs? True, there was that hiatus following the passing of Kim Manners, but after that it felt like there was going to be some creative differences on the rise.

First there was that Prophet Chuck episode, "The Monster at the End of This Book", which felt like a cheap copout reboot of the storyline. They had their big bad evil demon (which at this point in the season had become extremely ephemeral--there was almost no developed conflict with her, much less than when she was introduced in Season 3), who wanted out from her ultimate plan in freeing the Devil. It stinks of new writers not liking Lilith and trying to make her a second stringer.

Then they had to name their next episode "Jump the Shark", which conceptually was great, but in execution had a back-heavy laden exposition delivered by the villians of that episode, and I need not point out the significance of its naming. It was almost as if the writers of the show were poking fun at themselves, and apologizing for such a crappy storyline.

Obviously, I'm not watching the show for Ackles or Padalecki (the latter of whom I've gotten rather tired of, with his constant whining, ginormous brow, and unrealistic dialogue delivery), so they aren't really helping the situation.

Yeah, Supernatural has been kind of bland. I'm sure there's a million girls out there who if they read this, they'd be sharpening pitchforks and lighting torches. But I've watched it since the beginning, and I guess I'll for now remain a fan.

Now, I had a hard time admitting this to myself. It's because the concept of monsters in America in the classifiable way they first introduced it was plausible, novel, interesting, and something that I had come up with during my junior year in college, which is incidentally when it began to air. So color me frustrated that the WB/CW was going to slap it together for mass consumption, because cleverness gets watered down easily for mass consumption when it comes to TV. Not that I mind that much though, because it makes room for one of my novel projects I'm working on.

So I enjoyed it, for what it was worth, this nice one hour of watered down supernatural mystery suspense thing headed up by a couple of Anglo pretty boys, filmed mostly in picturesque parts of Canada. Then the watered downness began to increase, and the Anglo boys did more cliched things than smart things. And my little supernatural mystery suspense void began to feel a little betrayed.

I'm not writing this to detract from the show, really it's shooting itself in the foot. I'm just pointing out where I think things have gone wrong.

For the finale itself (SPOILERS AHEAD, UNLESS YOU MANAGED TO FIGURE OUT THE ENTIRE PLOT IN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES) well, it pretty much went for the hurt. I'll just list it:

- Dean whines to Bobby
- Bobby gets redneck on Dean
- Angels screw around with Dean and *GASP* oh noes they're actually evil in that authoritarian big brother way that no one expected at all. Ever.
- Castiel defects. Again. God make up your mind.
- Ruby's SINISTAR EVIL PLOT is revealed. Sam is in catatonia, which must be something like boredom, because that's how he was acting. Like we didn't see this one coming either (she's a demon)
- Sam goes all demony and crosses the line. Oh gee. We didn't expect this either, like the Angels or Ruby.
- And the Devil gets freed. Crossing fingers that Supernatural drops its pretense and just turns into a dark comedy like Reaper.

So yeah. It wasn't really a finale more than a, let's rehash everything that happened this season into their expected final outcome.

I didn't feel invested in the characters at all. I think they've just been taking their arc developments and just thrusting them into different situations. There's no change, no development, no accessibility that gives them sympathy. This season is basically great in concept and poor in execution. And now we'll all have to wait an entire summer to see the results. Hopefully, (if they exist) these new writers will have something better up their sleeve.

Guilty Pleasure Wednesdays: K-pop and the Big Bang theory

2009-05-13T11:24:00.001-07:00

It's hump day, and the week already feels longer than it deserves to be. Presenting: Guilty Pleasure Wednesdays! A segment here that highlights some of the things we do but won't admit to that help us get through the week.

Ah, K-pop. Disclaimer: I'm not Korean, nor do I know what is being said, but honestly, in my limited experience with it, I've found more catchier songs, doper beats, and had an inkling of young fanboyness that I haven't had since middle school when random news comes across about some K-pop stars. Besides which, when you live in a region that plays like top 10 hits (more like top 5, because seriously you can hear the same song four times running errands for like two hours), you're going to want something completely different.

Big Bang

I admit it, in junior high/high school, I listened to H.O.T. (among a lot of others like Jinusean, Turbo, G.O.D., Yoo Seung Jun, S.E.S.), but only for like two albums and then I couldn't stand them anymore. Number one reason:

thanks to http://www.geocities.com/clubplanethot/ for reminding me how freaking lame I was in high school.

They look like girls. Really ugly girls. Either that, or mutant sheepdogs.

So, many, many years later, my good friend Michelle introduces me to this group called Big Bang. K-pop boy band, five members, and even at one time they covered the popular H.O.T. song "Candy"

Scary. I had very low expectations for a group that still got dolled up in furry pink overalls so girls could scream at them. Honestly, seeing some videos of those fans that flock around K-pop bands, I think they would scream at anything.

But really, my first experience with Big Bang came from this little gem of a video. It had everything a K-pop music video should've had.

1. A catchy beat
2. Fobby English
3. 4 minutes to wrench your heart in an impossibly complex situation between a boy and a girl.

And so my interest was piqued. But here's the awesomest part about these guys.

They come across with a unique urban style that no other K-pop band at their inception could pull off. The departure was so refreshing that it was probably what got them their popularity. There's no big mental exercise to accept indecipherable lyrics, strange hair, or outlandish outfits to nitrous-induced electronic beats. They come off as accessible to an American audience.

Since then it's been a slow descent into the madness that K-pop has been for me. In particular, I'm a fan of Tae Yang (Dong Young Bae), the lead singer who came out with a solo mini-album. It's surprisingly insightful, as the songs are written around the process of love attained, strained, and lost. His vocal style is reminiscent of a Korean Usher, of whom Tae Yang is a big fan of, among other male R&B singers from the states.

Big Bang for me came at a time when I kind of needed a healthy obsession. Work kept me stuck in a rut, and injuries kept me from good practice habits. I barely had time in the day for any creative efforts, and long hours were blandly spent waiting for that period of time when I could take a breather doing nothing.

For the lack of anything better to describe it, following a K-pop group had that familiarity of when times were a little simpler, and the welcomeness from a generation raised on the internet could break down language barriers so hunting for information was not something as painstaking to do.

I'm definitely far from a fanboy though. It's kind of fun to read an article now and again, but I pretty much keep it to that. I mean, I think they're dope, their style is fresh, and their music is awesome, but what really keeps me from following their exploits up and down is probably the fact that their oldest member is still three years younger than me. And they got me riding their coattails. Seriously, what did I do wrong to get to this age with nothing to my name?

But that's just one of many groups that I've started to become familiar with lately, and one of many things that I do that halts my productivity that I'm coming clean about.

What do you do on hump day?

The Creative Process & Mutability

2009-05-13T03:58:00.000-07:00

Some people have been wondering exactly how I'm going about doing this writing thing. I wonder what they are thinking. I imagine they think I'm sitting in a Starbucks with pretentious coffee and a pretentious laptop with pretentious glasses drinking and looking frustrated and pounding out words that sound too archaic to be in anything but a book. Or that I can magically write page after page after page because creative writing is easier than critical writing.

My weeks as of late have been pretty much laid out like this:

Monday/Wednesday/Friday: Writing in the afternoon. Training in the evening. Writing when I get home.
Tuesday: Read and plan writing path for the week.
Thursday: Writing group review
Weekend days are for resting.

Now, it sounds like a lot of writing done, but really it isn't. I'd be happy to net 500 words a week that I'd want to keep, but there's a lot of reading and editing done whenever I say I'm actually writing. Also, in the afternoon I usually do more reviewing than creating, and in the night to early morning is when I do more original material than reedit.

I've learned that you really need to be able to attribute your time to your mental capacity/mood. In an ideal world I'd be able to create anytime I want, but on top of that be able to write perfectly and never have to edit. It's not like that though.

I write better on rainy days than sunny (there's an article about this...something to do with being distracted by awesome weather outside) and I'm more prone to creative thinking late at night than in the daytime.

I'm particularly learning that I don't have to be 100% satisfied, at least not yet. I'm writing, and words on paper means more to the craft than anything. Making progress is satisfying, doubling back is frustrating, and sometimes all the editing in the world won't give you the confidence to back what you just put down.

And the most satisfying part; the most rewarding part of the creative process--you determine the outcome of whatever you're writing. It's not in stone. As my writing teacher once told me, "You are the God of your own work."

Moral of this story of story-writing: Write freely. Edit harshly. Read carefully. Screwing up will do you good in the long run.

The Writer's Block Renovation

2009-05-12T13:41:00.001-07:00

Welcome to my rebooted blog!

My name is Andrew and this is where I deposit thoughts of various interests. I'm a (fledgling) writer/(martial) artist living in the OC, just to name a few things about myself. Here you'll find humble literature of my own hand, scribbles, rants and raves about various movies or tv shows, odd articles, links to stuff that I find interesting enough to post, random musings, and probably a million other things that I can't think of right now. But you'll find things to read, period. Check back often, because as the name implies, I come here when I get writer's block, which is pretty much all the time.