I'd like to ask, how do you know when fight/smut scenes are necessary? Or how to make them effective & not simply as fanservice or just for word count? Usually, I find myself skimming through fight scenes as a reader, bored. As a writer, I'm inclined to just 'fade to black' and imply stuff at the next chapters. I'm not really a fight/smut-scene writer, even though my characters know & need to fight. Thanks for keeping this blog. :D
A good fight scene (and a good smut scene for that matter) always works in the service of the narrative. It works toward the cohesive big picture.
From an entertainment standpoint, violence is boring.
You need your audience invested in the characters participating in the violence, in the actions and events leading up to the fight, in the aftermath and how this will effect the character’s overall goals.
In a narrative context, if you’re bored during a fight scene or a sex scene it’s because the build up to that moment failed. The scene itself may also have failed. However, your foundation is what makes your story sing.
Think of a story like building blocks. You’re playing Jenga with your reader on a homemade house, they’re slowly pulling out the pieces and you’re betting you built your blocks well enough to withstand scrutiny. You’ve got to keep them interested long enough to get to the end before the whole thing comes tumbling down.
A fight sequence which works in concert with it’s narrative is enjoyable, doesn’t overstay it’s welcome, and ultimately works to build up the story it’s telling. Fighting isn’t fighting, you see. Combat is a form of problem solving, the fight itself is an expression of the character’s individuality. Everything we’ve been learning about them, their goals, and their behaviors are being put in a pressure cooker and dialed up.
You should be learning about the character as the fight progresses, the fight working on multiple levels in concert with its narrative to get the story where it needs to go. Often, a first fight is like an establishing shot in film. You get a feel for who this character is when under pressure, who they are. Peril can be a great way to get the audience invested, but its up to the author to prove why they should.
Poor fight sequences don’t tell you anything. They’re there to establish the character as capable of fighting but don’t even do that because their concept of combat is generic.
The combatants aren’t individuals expressing themselves, the fight isn’t proving anything except fighting, it doesn’t have meaning except for its attempts to prove the narrative’s poor concept of badassery. This often happens with no regard for the setting’s rules, the aftermath consequences, what the character’s actions will effect in the long run.
It doesn’t mean anything and, while violence is shocking and terrifying in real life, in fiction violence has to mean more than just an exchange of blows.
How many times have you read a book where several mooks show up to get their ass kicked by the protagonist? They limp off at the end and while they’re often in a perfect position to be seen again due to their connections, we never do.
In even just a moderately competent narrative, those same mooks are characters. We’ll see them again in bit roles. They’ll play a role, either to help or hurt later as an aftermath consequence of the protagonist’s earlier actions. These are callback characters we can use to remind the audience of what happened previously in the narrative, and offer up some catharsis.
In a really well written scene, these mooks serve an important purpose when it comes to establishing the protagonist’s character in a quick snapshot. Like the moderately competent character, they come back later to the aid or the detriment of the protagonist. The mooks’ response actions are a direct result of their encounter with the character, often acting as an inciting incident. The protagonist suffers direct consequences as a result of their actions, whether its injury, loss, or the attention of the villain which causes them to lose something. In these fight scenes, you can see the story’s trajectory because it acts as another way to get to know the hero, the secondary characters, the tertiary characters, and whoever else is participating. It’s working on five different levels.
What you often see in a good fight sequence, whether it’s in a written medium or film, is the culmination of a great deal of hard work on the part of the author. A smut sequence is a reward, it’s a way to pay off on the reader’s investment in the relationship between these two characters and the narrative’s investment in them. It doesn’t matter if that’s hardcore sex, or a Victorian hand touch, or a knockout blow to the jaw, the end result is the same. It’s entertaining, satisfying, and even cathartic.
A poor sex scene is just dolls bumping bits. A poor fight scene is just dolls trading blows. Nothing occurs, nothing happens, there’s none of the underlying satisfaction or catharsis in the outcome. You don’t have any investment, no consequences, it overstays its welcome and tells you nothing about the characters.
You’ve no reason to care, so you don’t.
As a reader, you don’t owe a writer attention when reading their work. They’ve got to earn it. If they aren’t, then it may be that the story isn’t for you and that’s okay. Take into account your tastes,
It takes practice to choreograph a fun fight scene. Writing sex and violence is mostly about learning to find your limits (i.e. what you’re comfortable with writing), and overcoming embarrassment. Determine the difference between need and want.
Are you avoiding writing these scenes because you’re scared of being bad at them or because they just don’t interest you?
These are two very different issues, and it’s easy to hide from the first behind the second. Be honest with yourself. If it is fear, then don’t give into it. The easy solution if you’re afraid of being bad at something is to practice. Start looking critically at the media you consume, when you start to get bored during a fight scene or a sex scene, when you want to skip ahead, ask yourself, “why?”. Check out the sequences and stories where this doesn’t happen, and try to figure out the differences between the two.
When it comes to the mechanics of both violence and sex, the more you learn the better off you’ll be at writing it. The more you practice writing violence/sex/romance then the better you’ll be. Like with everything, it’ll probably be pretty terrible in the beginning but the more you practice, the better you get. Writing itself is a skill, but its also a lot of sub-skills built in underneath the surface. Being good at dialogue doesn’t mean you’ll be good at action, having a knack for great characterization doesn’t mean you’ll be good at writing setting description. Putting together great characters doesn’t mean you’ll automatically be good at worldbuilding.
Don’t be too hard on yourself.
All it takes to figure out whether or not the time to fight is right is by listening to your gut.
Remember, the best scenes are based in narrative cohesion and emotional investment. They’re a pay off in and of themselves for your audience, dessert after dinner. They aren’t the meat and potatoes. If you set out to just write a fight scene or write a smut scene then it’ll get gratuitous. Then the focus is on the fight or the sex itself, hangs entirely on their shoulders, and you’ve just upped the ante for how entertaining you need to be.
It’s not “how do I write a fight scene”, it’s “how did my characters get to this point and why are they fighting”. If you start from a character place, it gets easier. The same is true with romance. “How do my characters participate in a romance (sex or not)”.
Make it about the individuals, that’s when it really gets fun.
And, if you get too stuck, try writing fight scenes with characters who don’t know much about how to fight. Sometimes, it’s easier to get into it when you begin at the beginning. There’s a lot less pressure convincing an audience with a character who knows nothing than one at the top of their field.
There’s a lot less stress about “is this right?” when you’re trying to get a feel for the flow if you’re dealing with a character who doesn’t know jack shit. Fight scenes with characters who know nothing can also be really, really, really fun. They’re wild, improvisational frenzies where all you have is the character sorting through their alternative, non-fighting skills trying to figure out how to survive.
Believe it or not, this will help you because you don’t get to cheat with the idea that your character already knows what they’re doing when you don’t. It’ll help you tap into the character, seeing scenarios from their perspectives, and writing to that instead of “generic fight scene”. When you’re unsure, characters who know nothing about the subject matter they’re engaging in but still have to engage are great. They teach you how to write from the standpoint and perspective of the individual. You need those skills just as much when writing characters who are professionals or at the top of their field.
If you don’t think you can write an interesting fight sequence with a neophyte, then that might be a part of the problem. A character doesn’t need to be good at something to be entertaining. A smut sequence where everyone’s fumbling, knocking into each other, embarrassed, stuck in their clothing, cheesy, corny, and laughing can be just as fun (if not more so and more honest) than the ones that generally get envisioned.
For me, good is entertaining and the entertainment is based in humanity but you need to define “good” for yourself in your own writing. Be honest with yourself about your fears and you’ll find a way to bridge yourself to the kind of writing you want to be doing.
Freeing yourself of your own internalized preconceived notions will help a lot, and produce stories that are way more fun.
This weekend, I went to see a horror movie. It got stuck in my head, and now I can’t stop thinking about it—but not for any of the reasons you might think.
The movie was Jordan Peele’s new hit Get Out, which has gotten rave reviews from critics—an incredible 99% on Rotten Tomatoes—and has a lot of people talking about its themes.
First of all, I should tell you that I hate horror movies. As a general rule, I stay far, far away from them, but after everything I’d read, I felt like this was an important film for me to see. This trailer might give you some inkling as to why:
Creepy, huh? You might know writer/director Jordan Peele as part of the comedy duo Key & Peele, known for smartly tackling societal issues through sketch comedy. Get Out is a horror movie, but it’s also a film about race in America, and it’s impressively multilayered.
I left the theater feeling deeply disturbed but glad this movie was made. I can’t say any more without revealing spoilers, so if you haven’t seen the movie yet and you don’t want to have the plot spoiled for you, stop reading now and come back later.
Seriously, this is your last chance before I give away what happens.
Okay, you were warned. Here we go.
Our protagonist is Chris Washington, a young black man who has been dating Rose Armitage, a young white woman, for the last four months. She wants him to meet her family, but he’s hesitant. She acknowledges that her dad can be a little awkward on the subject of race, but assures Chris that he means well.
After unnerving encounters with a deer (echoes of The Invitation) and a racist cop, Chris and Rose arrive at the Armitages’ estate. On the surface, the Armitages are very friendly, but the conversation (brilliantly scripted by Peele) includes a lot of the little, everyday, get-under-your-skin moments of racism that people of color have to contend with: Rose’s dad going on about how he voted for Obama, for instance, and asking how long “this thang” has been going on. Chris laughs it off to be polite, though he clearly feels uncomfortable.
There’s a fantastic moment here, by the way, when Rose’s dad offhandedly mentions that they had to close off the basement because of “black mold.” In the midst of the racially charged atmosphere of the conversation, it’s nearly impossible not to take this as a racial remark, and Chris certainly notices, but what could he possibly say about it? Black mold is a real thing; his girlfriend would surely think he was crazy and oversensitive if he said it sounded racist. Chris never reacts to the remark, but that one tiny moment is a reminder to the audience of a real problem people of color often face, when racism can’t be called out without being accused of “playing the race card” or seeing things that aren’t there. (Incidentally, it turns out that the basement is actually used for molding of a different sort.)
There are other reasons for Chris to be unsettled: The only other black people on the estate are two servants, Georgina and Walter (Rose’s dad says he knows how bad it looks, but that it’s not what it seems), and something is clearly “off” about them. Later, more white people show up—and one more black character, and he, too, feels “off.”
By the end of the film, we learn the horrible secret: Rose’s family is kidnapping and luring black people to their estate, where they’re being hypnotized and psychologically trapped inside themselves—Rose’s mom calls it “the sunken place”—so that old or disabled white people’s consciousnesses can be transplanted into their bodies. The white people are then able to move about, controlling their new black bodies, with the black person’s consciousness along for the ride as a mere “passenger.” In a shocking twist, it turns out that even apparently-sweet Rose is in on the plot, and Chris must fight her and the rest of her family to escape.
This isn’t a “white people are evil” film, although it may sound that way at first, but it is a film about racism. I know many of my friends of color will connect with this movie in a way I can’t, so I won’t try to say what I think they’ll get out of it. I do want to say how I connected with it, though, because I think what Jordan Peele has done here is really important for white audiences.
If you look beyond the surface horror-movie plot, this film actually gives white people a tiny peek at the reality of racism—not the epithet-shouting neo-Nazi kind of racism that white people normally imagine when we hear “racism,” but the “Oh it’s so nice to meet you; I voted for Obama” kind of racism, the subtle othering that expects people of color to smile and get along and adopt white culture as their own whenever they’re around white people.
So many of the moments in Get Out are clearly intended to work on multiple levels. When Chris confronts Georgina about something being wrong and she smiles and says, “No, no no no no no,” with tears streaming down her cheeks, the symbolism is blatant. How often do people of color have to ignore the subtle indignities they face and hide their true emotions in order to avoid coming across as, for example, “the angry black woman/man”? How many times do they find themselves in social situations—even with their closest white friends!—where people make little comments tying them to an “exotic,” supposedly monolithic culture, where they have to respond with a smile and a laugh instead of telling people how stupid and offensive they’re being?
I can’t tell you the number of these stories I’ve heard from my friends, and I’m quite sure that the stories I’ve heard are only a tiny fraction of the stories that could be told. So there’s something in that moment that speaks volumes about the experiences of people of color in America.
The same is true for so many other moments. The black characters Chris meets at the Armitages’ have all symbolically given up their identities and conformed to white culture; when Chris meets one character, he turns out to be going under a new name, with new clothes and new mannerisms; when Chris offers him a fist bump, he tries to shake Chris’s fist. Again, within the story, there’s an explanation for all this, but every moment here is also about assimilation and culture differences.
For me as a white audience member, all of these moments did something remarkable: They showed me my own culture—a culture I’m often blissfully unaware of because it’s all around me—as something alien. They reminded me that I, too, have a culture, and that expecting everyone else to assimilate to my culture is just as much an erasing of their identities as it would be to expect me to assimilate to someone else’s culture.
And that’s a big part of what Get Out is about—the erasing of identities, and the power of racism to destroy people. I think it’s really significant that racism is portrayed here very differently from how it’s normally portrayed in movies written by white people. In most Hollywood movies, you know a character is racist because they shout racial epithets or make blatant statements about a certain race’s inferiority. That allows white audiences to say, “I would never do/say that, so I’m not racist!” We really don’t want to think we are.
But notice something important about Get Out’s treatment of racism: This is a film about the literal enslavement of black people—racism doesn’t get more extreme than that—and yet Peele doesn’t go for the obvious by having the white characters admit that they think black people are inferior; instead, they subjugate and dehumanize people by claiming to admire things about them. They turn them into fashion accessories.
When Chris asks why only black people are being targeted for this procedure, the response is telling: It’s not (supposedly) because the white characters think African Americans are bad, but rather, because they like certain things about them and they want “a change” for themselves. They want to become black—it’s trendy, we’re told!—but without having had any of the actual life experiences or history of African Americans. White people need to see this: to experience the ways in which Chris is othered by people who tell him all the things they like about him—isn’t he strong? Look at those muscles! Does he play golf like Tiger Woods? And he must be well-endowed and have such sexual prowess, right, Rose?
The white people in the audience need to be reminded that just because you’re saying positive things about someone doesn’t mean you’re not being racist, that turning someone into an exotic “other” may not be the same as shouting an epithet, but it’s still taking away someone’s identity and treating them as a commodity.
The film is filled with these kinds of moments. When we realize that Rose’s white grandmother has inhabited the body of Georgina, the fact that she keeps touching her own hair and admiring herself in the mirror takes on a whole new level of significance. (White people, please don’t ask to touch your black friends’ hair.) When Chris connects with a dying deer on the side of the road and later sees a deer head mounted on the wall at the Armitages’ estate, the symbolism is hard to miss. Black people are being turned into trophies in this house. And, oh yeah, they’re being literally auctioned off—as they were in real life in the not-too-distant past.
One day, I’d like to see the film again to pick up on all the ways things read differently the second time through. I noticed several things in retrospect that gain new significance once you know the ending, and I’m sure there’s a lot I didn’t notice. For example, Rose’s dad says he hired Walter and Georgina to care for his parents, and when his parents died, “I couldn’t bear to let them go.” The first time you see the film, it sounds like the “them” is Walter and Georgina. But in retrospect, it’s clear the “them” he couldn’t bear to let go was his parents, so he sacrificed Walter and Georgina for them. Which, again, is an example of how the supposed care of the white characters for the black characters (his care for Walter and Georgina, Rose’s care for Chris) is really all about caring for themselves and treating the black characters as completely interchangeable objects.
The message of the film isn’t simply that the black characters are “good” and the white characters are “bad.” There are presumably—hopefully—many good white people in the world of this film, and many others who wouldn’t do what the Armitages are doing but also probably wouldn’t believe Chris or make the effort to stop it. Peele’s mother and wife are both white, so he’s clearly not trying to paint all white people as villains.
But I admit, as a white guy, I really, really wanted Rose to be good. I’ve been the white person in an interracial relationship introducing my black boyfriend to my family. I’ve been that. So I related to Rose, and I really wanted to believe that she was well-intentioned and just oblivious; even though she misses the mark on several occasions, there are times that she seems like she gets it and she really does listen to Chris. When a cop asks to see Chris’s ID early in the film even though he wasn’t driving, Rose stands up against the obvious racism, showing us all what it looks like for white people to do the right thing. “That was hot,” Chris says to her later, and I thought, yeah, that’s who I want to be.
So I have to admit, it was really upsetting to me to see Rose, the only good white character left in the film, turn out to be evil. But I realized that part of that is that I really wanted her to represent me, and that’s really the point. Just think how often horror films have only one black character who dies early on, and how many films of all genres have no significant black characters for audience members to look up to or identify with. I think it’s really important for white audiences to experience that.
As I’ve reflected on the film, it seems to me like there are three kinds of popular movies about people of color. There are those that feature POC characters that are essentially indistinguishable from the white characters—as if they just decided to cast Morgan Freeman instead of Tom Hanks without giving any thought to the character’s race. Then there are the movies that deal with racism, but in a way that allows white people to feel good about ourselves, because we’re not like the characters in the film. (This is especially true for movies about racism in the past; some of them are very important films, like Hidden Figures, which I loved, but we need to be aware that it’s still easy for white America to treat it as a feel-good film and think that we’re off the hook because we no longer have separate restrooms.) And finally, there are movies that focus more directly on the lives of people of color but tend to draw largely audiences of color; not many white people go see them, because we think they’re not “for us” (even though we assume films about white people are for everyone).
Get Out isn’t any of those. It’s drawing a broad audience but it’s not afraid to make white people uncomfortable. And if you can give me, a white guy, a chance to have even a momentary fraction of an experience of the real-life, modern-day, casual racism facing people of color in America, I think that’s a very good thing.
shoutout to Barbie Princess and the Pauper for giving us a stellar critique of a capitalist-mandated patriarchy which mandates the oppression of women at multiple levels of social and economic classes in society, plus some great musical numbers
a perfect television show. To be fair, I don’t know one that is, but I never
needed Arrow to be perfect. All I need
from Arrow is a good story. My frustrations
with Oliver and Felicity’s break up, and the Baby Mama storyline, aren’t a
secret. I found their break up to be wildly problematic on multiple levels.
However, the one caveat I always held to was if Arrow can piece together some
interesting character growth for Oliver and Felicity it would go a long way of
easing my ruffled feathers. We’ve been
dealing with the ramifications of Oliver’s lie about William since 4x08. That’s
35 episodes. We’ve waited a long time for Oliver and Felicity’s individual arcs
to come to fruition.
The wait was worth it. At least for
of “good story” vary as widely as our perceptions of
“perfect” but “Underneath” is a good story for me. It’s almost perfect. 35
episodes. This road was long. It was hard but, in the end, I feel like I understand. It connects all the dots that need to be
connected (and some I didn’t expect) while delivering some real character
development that feels earned.
In the midst
of the crazy world of arrows, masks, Mirakuru soldiers, 15 different canaries
and Barry Allen resides the relationships between Oliver and Felicity
These characters, and the love they have for one another, is the sanity
in all the madness. It’s the real in the fiction. Oliver, Felicity and Diggle
are the beating heart of Arrow for a reason.
The love we have for these characters is the reason we watch and
“Underneath” returns Arrow to center. It focuses on the love stories
that made us fall in love with the show. In particularly, it brings Oliver and
Felicity’s individual arcs to fruition and FINALLY merges their roads into one
Forgiveness. Compassion. Humility. These
aren’t always popular concepts in our society, but they are the building blocks
to any relationship. You lose one, the whole house can come down on you. Love feels like it has its own inertia, like
it chooses you and not the other way around. And maybe that’s true. Maybe we
can’t choose who we love. However, we
can choose how we love.
If you are
either Team Felicity or Team Oliver in the break-up- Baby-Mama-drama then
there’s probably things about “Underneath” you didn’t like. As for
me, I believe there are things both
Oliver and Felicity need to learn from the breakup and “Underneath”
addresses those things. But more than anything, I am ready for Arrow to rebuild what they broke. I am
ready for Arrow to fix it. Are you?
This is, by far, my longest review. We’re going all the way back to the
pilot and discuss about five different episodes. This took me about 22 hours to
write. No need to comment on how long it is. I am well are.
word count: 9,018 (i was gonna split this up, but decided to just keep it together. it’s long. put on your favorite sweatpants and grab that bag of hot cheetos you’ve been saving before you dig into this thing.)
author’s note: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BACK AGAIN? BERRY’S BACK, TELL A FRIEND. welcome to the first installment of my college!shawn series, which takes place during Y/N’s (that’s you) freshman year. it’s got fluff, angst, and some pretty stupid decisions on everyone’s part. title from “shot down” by khalid, as per a recommendation from @light-up-shawn. enjoy.
Upon your arrival to college, you had been on the receiving end of entirely too much advice from various relatives, older friends, and even strangers. Don’t walk alone at night, don’t sign up for eight AM classes, don’t drink the “jungle juice” at any frat parties.
Your parents had told you to focus on your studies and seek tutoring help if you needed it. Your sister had encouraged you to join a sorority to really be at “the heart” of university life, as if you knew what that meant. The only advice your cousin gave you was to always remember your room key and to pack a pair of shower shoes, the latter of which she accompanied with a shudder - you could piece together that anecdote on your own.
But nobody had prepared you for this particular problem.
okay but like, i am so excited to see their new place….i hope phil gets his garden, dan gets his new piano and big room, they get a backyard with sunshine, and the place has air conditioning, and they make friends with their neighbors and have plenty of space for a dog, better storage areas (multiple levels??), a new larger gaming room with lots of new places for phil’s houseplants, a big kitchen where they could bake together & have cabinet doors that automatically close for phil, and no glass doors so they won’t bang around anymore, a high coffee table for their long bodies, and just a place they both love that feels like home for the next several years of their lives
Today marks 5 years since the very official Twitter Welcome Committee made everyone aware of who Eleanor Calder was on Twitter and what her role was going to be going forward.
So Eleanor had been on Twitter for over a month on 17 March 2012 and had tweeted herself 260 times, but that didn’t stop everyone under the sun affiliated with Louis from “welcoming” her to Twitter. This was, miraculously, the day before she flew into NYC to spend the week with Louis. Even MORE stunning: it was the same week Up All Night was released in America and the summer headlining tour was announced and tickets went on sale.
It should be noted, this all began 30 minutes before the signing in Somerdale, NJ began (read: the exact time when the Twitter and Tumblr fandoms were most active waiting for pictures/fan reports).
Eleanor begins to tweet her own update accounts and 1D Fans around 1:30 pm EST ( x )
Dan tweets Eleanor “The lady that doesn’t tweet is now on Twitter! Hiya lovely how are you? Xx” to which Eleanor replies “I am indeed! Hello! I’m very well thank you :) how are you? Receovered from your lads holiday?! Haha x"
17: Woody Darling, Jay’s best friend, then tweets Eleanor for the first time 3 minutes later ”@amassive1Dfan no @eleanorJCalder and @DaniellePeazer had their own party #nottobeseenwiththeoldies x" ( x )
17: About 45 minutes later, George, Woody’s son, tweets Eleanor for the first time “glad to see you have joined the revolution ell, hope you are ok :)” to which Eleanor replies “Georgeee! I’m fine thank you babe :) I recognise your picture, is that from new year?! Xx” ( x )
17: George replies to Eleanor “I am glad to hear it :) yes it is - it was such a good night! Hope all is well and you’re behaving yourself! Haha x” to which Eleanor replies “I’m always on my best behaviour! Hope your thumb has fixed itself! See you soon xx” ( x )
17: Eleanor begins to call out fake twitter accounts ( x )
17: Louis tweets Eleanor directly for the first time at 7:24PM “Miss you ! X” ( x ) 17: Eleanor responds to Louis’ tweet 10 minutes later “Miss you too, got your biscuits! X” ( x )
18: Louis finally follows Eleanor on Twitter ( x )
18: Em, Eleanor’s cousin and a 1D fan, tweets her for the first time “You have so many followers already, lordy Lord!xx” to which Eleanor replies “Crazy!! Xx” ( x )
18: To make sure she authenticates who Em is, Eleanor tweets her 6 minutes later “Don’t forget it’s Grandma’s birthday today toooo! Xx” ( x )
18: Danielle (Liam’s then girlfriend) tweets Eleanor like Eleanor just got a twitter account yesterday “Really happy to have @EleanorJCalder join the Twitter World! I can now tweet about our antics and tag her in it! Xx” to which Eleanor replies “Woohoooo! :) #coffeeeverywhere xx” ( x )
18: Danielle tweets “@Real_Liam_Payne has said he’s not going to follow @EleanorJCalder unless we can get #therewasacrazymoose trending….let’s gooo! Xx” ( x )
So Louis didn’t follow Eleanor UNTIL EVERYONE HE KNEW WELCOMED HER TO TWITTER.
They coordinated this effort around a fan signing event, the album release in the U.S., and the announcement of the summer tour.
They used 3 of the 9 perception management strategies:
– Employ actors and organizations that will lend authenticity to the campaign
support – Supporters of the campaign should come from multiple levels –
personal, professional, public, private, etc.
– The flow of information should be centralized at the top of a chain of
And nearly 5 years later, this is very much like how they reintroduced Eleanor to the current scenario. In both cases she was:
She was waiting in the wings to be introduced to the fans when the timing was right
She was authenticated by accounts known to be “official” by fans
She participated just enough to lend credibility to the authentication
Recap stories were written about her and Louis’ “relationship” to date to remind fans of who she was and why she was important
Their tactics this time around aren’t quite as overt as asking fans to trend something stupid to get Liam to follow her (*cringe*), but they had Louis’ sisters accounts like pictures hours after the official Danielle and Louis breakup confirmation in the Sun. They have public “friends” following Eleanor update accounts (James Arthur) and James Corden following Eleanor on Twitter.
It’s all the same pieces working in the same way to create a story that, on the surface, seems plausible, but in reality is just smoke and mirror social media activity to give the press enough to write a story.
I know this isn’t anything knew, but the date reminded me of just how coordinated both of these little campaigns were and how easily they promoted the agendas of 1DHQ both times.
(And, sadly, I don’t think they went to the same effort again to pull the rug out from under Elounor after 4-6 weeks. I think this will last several months).
why black paladin keith is bad writing (in which i criticise a lot of writing choices)
So if you’ve been following me for a while you’ll know how much I hate the unfortunate possibility that Keith will become Black Paladin and leader of Voltron in Shiro’s absence. And I have good reason, it’s multiple levels of bad writing. it shows really blatant writer favouritism and actually does a disservice to his character as well as those of the other main characters. I’m putting this under a readmore because its long but here we go
See… this is what happens when I don’t pull all nighters. My life interferes with my ability to write insanely long reviews. Sorry for the wait my friends. Your patience is appreciated.
a moment in every person’s life when you realize your life is your own, a
separate entity beyond your parent’s expectations and dreams for you. You also see your parents for what they
are… imperfect people just like you. There is freedom in these realizations
and it is a crucial part of adulthood.
As you grow older, your life is less and less defined by being what your
parents leave behind. You begin to wonder what you will leave behind. You
define a legacy for yourself. You learn how to live for yourself.
essentially the process both Oliver and Thea are going through in “Honor
Thy Fathers” but because they are superheroes everything is on a super
scale. Both Oliver and Thea faced their past tonight. They saw Robert Queen for
who he really was and with those lessons came a certain peace. The past is no
longer weighing them down. Both Thea and Oliver are free to look to the future.
sure what to do with a television show that gives me everything I’ve been
waiting for on a narrative level. So… Imma gonna drink wine and throw confetti.
Katie McGrath gives the best interviews, dude! And I love that she went back and watched the Supercorp scenes and was like, “Oh yeah we were totally gay there, gotcha.” And she talks about how the characters work on multiple levels and it’s so fun to do that.
Plus she talks about women and men being delicious at different points. I’m sorry (I don’t like to speculate on people’s sexuality) but it’s no surprise people think she’s not straight lol.
Best thing though is her endless faith in Lena and her friendship with Kara. Just when you think she can’t get any more perfect, she goes and ups the ante.