In yet another clip from the Omni Viewer’s writers’ roundtable livestream, we discuss the sources of our inspiration for our projects. I hope you find encouragement in it!
The roundtable consists of of:
-Ryan Collins
-Nathan Marchand
-Daniel DiManna
-Neil Riebe
-Karl Dutton
-Christopher Nigro
-Matt Dennion
Watch the full livestream here.
Enjoy!
Perhaps I’m a bit late to the whole “public domain” discourse. It’s February, after all, and everyone is over “Steamboat Willie,” the 1928 Disney short that features the first appearance of Mickey Mouse, falling out of copyright protection. But as the first weeks of 2024 have passed and I’ve watched a ton of YouTube videos on physical media (thank you, Almighty Algorithm!), it’s brought to mind a lot of my thoughts on censorship and how it all connects to all of this.
The public domain is a double-edged sword. As a creator, I believe artists are entitled to copyright protection; it allows them to profit from their creations because that’s their trade. It’s no different than a fisherman who needs laws against stealing fish to maintain his livelihood. However, copyright in the United States has been extended to an almost absurd extent, with it now lasting 95 years. That’s well beyond the lifetime of (most) creators. Perhaps it can support his estate after his death, but that’s the most reasonable justification for such a timeframe.
The issue, I argue, is when mega-corporations get involved. They see their IP’s as only a means to make money, and they’ll be damned if they allow anyone but themselves to profit from them without permission. In the “old days,” actual people in these corporations needed to discover these unauthorized uses, but today it’s done through automation. That’s why YouTube bots constantly flag user content for copyright infringement. The problem is it ignores context and/or misidentifies the material in question. I know this firsthand because the remix I use as the theme song for my podcast, The Monster Island Film Vault, is now being flagged on YouTube as a completely different song by a record company I’ve never heard of. The whole system reeks of greed and even a bit of paranoia. In most cases, users are creative fans engaging with the content they love. They shouldn’t be punished for that. If anything, it’s free publicity for the studios.
Falling into public domain allows a piece of media to be used by anyone—which is both good and bad. On one hand, that can break an IP out of restrictive molds that have stagnated it or save it from mismanagement by the powers-that-be. (Just look at what Hollywood and other creative industries have been doing to beloved franchises the last 15 years or so). In some cases, it might be the only option to save something from ruin. I can tell you that I will jump at the opportunity to legally write and publish my own Superman stories in ten years since DC Comics likely won’t hire me. (I’ll leave it at that).
But, as a great man said, with great power comes great responsibility, and some creators have no business mucking around with public domain IPs. A.A. Milne’s beloved Winnie the Pooh books fell into public domain in 2022, and five seconds after that honey-eating bear was released into the wild, the movie Blood and Honey was revealed. Yes, a slasher flick about a guy wearing a Pooh mask. Now, sadly, it seems to have started a trend. On January 1, not one but two horror films “based” on “Steamboat Willie,” were announced: Mickey’s Mouse Trap and an “untitled horror-comedy.” There are also two survival horror video games in the works! I understand the creative drive to do something completely new with established characters. I can even understand the desire to stick it to Disney. But these? They strike me as uncreative and, at points, repugnant cash-grabs. Slasher movies, especially, are stupid-easy and require little thought. They flooded the market in the ‘80s and, with few exceptions, offered little value. Give someone a mask, a knife, and a bunch of top-heavy co-eds to chase and butcher, and you have instant “movie.” Boring. If a creator must make a horror film, why not lean into the unique features of the IP? For example, make “Steamboat Willie” a ferryman to the underworld. (You can have that one for free, writers!) Instead, they take the easy route. More than anything, though, this just seems corruptive. These are children’s icons, and these creators seem hellbent on destroying their innocence. I daresay it’s evil.
This brings me to the virtues of physical media. I’ll probably end up writing a whole other blog about this, but suffice it to say, in this case, it provides a means of protection and preservation for IPs in these culture war assaults. Unless Fahrenheit 451 happens and govern-controlled firemen are sent to people’s houses to collects books, DVD’s, and vinyl records to burn, those stories will remain as originally intended. No amount of censorship can completely destroy them. They can’t be removed or edited with a few keystrokes. Physical media, in a way, is like a halfway house between copyright and public domain. You’re granted a “share” in the ownership of something. Ownership grants you power. The power to control when, where, and how you partake of a story. The studios and publishers can’t decide that for you. It shows that you’re invested in the story, which will motivate you to protect it; it gives you skin in the game.
Is copyright a good thing? Yes. Is the public domain a good thing? Also, yes. But both can be abused. That’s why we must learn to use both wisely—but we’re in short supply of wisdom these days.
Perhaps we should cultivate that first.
Preferably, by reading some good books.
I’ve written often on time management for writers and my own struggles with making time for writing. I certainly have the desire to tell my stories, but oftentimes life simply gets in the way. It sucks, but it’s true.
Except when it isn’t.
I should clarify: sometimes I don’t make time to write not because of circumstances beyond my control, but because I choose not to write. How’s that?
Besides being a seemingly rare extroverted writer, I’m a self-described “story junkie.” As in I go out of my way to enjoy as many stories as I can. Most of my hobbies—reading, gaming, movie watching, photography, among others—revolve around storytelling (or at least creativity). I eat that stuff up. You might even say I’m a borderline addict. I tend to go through phases. Right now I’m trying to read the pile of comic books next to my bed. Other times I’ll play story-driven video games or read a lot of books. Whatever phase I’m in, I usually inject something else amidst all that (like a trip to the movies to see the latest blockbuster).
The trouble is I get so caught up with other stories that I neglect my own. Consumption is easier than creation. An old adage (erroneously attributed to Dorothy Parker, apparently) says, “Writers don’t like writing—they like having written.” In other words, writing is hard work. Authors may enjoy it, but they much prefer finishing a project than being in the middle of one. Sometimes it’s a chore to grind out 1,000 words or figure out what your heroine will/should say next. I say all that to say that it’s a common trap for writers to procrastinate because they would rather go enjoy someone else’s completed story (or at least an analysis of a story) than work on their own. “Write another scene for my Great American Novel? Maybe after I binge watch a few episodes of Clone Wars on Netflix.”
This is a trap I often fall into. I’m so desperate to get my fix of story, I procrastinate on whatever project I’m working on. Sometimes I even the excuse that whatever story I’m consuming will somehow help with whatever project I’m writing (how a Godzilla movie relates to Children of the Wells, I don’t know. 😛 ). In reality, though, it’s just me making an excuse to not to the hard work of writing. This is why I’ve had to train myself to use my “story fixes” as rewards for accomplishing writing goals. Then I can use those stories as inspiration.
It’s not always easy, trust me. After a long day at my day job (a part-time job that’s been giving me full-time hours lately, making time management even harder), I don’t always want to write. I’ll just want to relax with a good book or a new video game. But as Jack London famously said,
“You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”
Are you a “story junkie”? Does it distract you from your work? How do you deal with it?
I’ve written many times before about time management and how I tend to take on more projects than I possibly could. Well, this week, that bit me in the butt—hard. Remember how I was supposed to have a book signing at the North Webster Public Library Monday?
I completely forgot about it.
You read that right. I didn’t even show up at my own book signing. That’s never happened before. I’m the kind of person who keeps his commitments. I feel terrible if I don’t. I don’t like letting people down. Yet despite seeing promotions for my signing and even blogging about it, it completely slipped my mind. Since I was scheduled to work at my day job, I couldn’t even show up late. I spent the next 24 hours beating myself up over it until I talked with the librarians this afternoon and found out all is well. I’ve been rescheduled for June 6 from 3:30pm-6:30pm.
I had no excuse or justification for forgetting it. The problem is I’ve had a hundred other things on my mind, from writing/creative projects to family concerns to a ballroom dance showcase this weekend, and everything in between. Something was bound to get lost in the shuffle, to fall through the cracks. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it was never something this major. It was usually just something like forgetting to blog (I’ve apologized many a time for that) or neglecting my writing time (a greater crime for writers). Never have I neglected an entire event centered on me that was promoted for several weeks, if not longer, beforehand. My only solace is the library is too nice to make me wear the proverbial bag of shame over my head whenever I’m there.
At the height of my metaphorical self-flagellation over this, I told myself I should just cut out everything that isn’t work or writing from my life to avoid more gaffs like this. Now that I’m in my right mind, I don’t think I’ll go that far. I’ll certainly put some thought into cutting back on some things, though. More importantly, I’m going to be smarter about remembering my own schedule. Put it on my calendar or in my iPhone as a reminder.
Or marry a secretary. 😛
The point is I can’t afford to make a mistake like this again. It was unprofessional and irresponsible. At least it only happened for relatively small event. If I forget Gen-Con….
So, be it known that future events will not sneak up on me like one of Master Heeyah’s ninjas. 😛
Yes, I promised I’d post two blogs Thursday. I didn’t get around to the second. I felt bad. Then I realized Monday was Leap Day. I couldn’t miss a chance to post something on a day that only comes once every four years. So, here’s the bonus blog. 😛
Anyway…
I’m a dreamer living in a world that seems hostile toward such people. I’m not the only one, though. I’ve heard many stories about artists (though dreamers can also be scientists and missionaries, etc.) in particular who grew up in blue collar families/communities and were discouraged from pursuing their passions. “Get a real job!” they’d be told. They didn’t understand the dreamers’ aspirations, their desire to do extraordinary things. No, these naysayers knew only of clocking in and out at their easily understood and quantifiable jobs and bringing home a paycheck.
I don’t say this to demean blue collar (or white collar) types. In fact, I admire their work ethic and down-to-earth attitudes. Many, if not most, are full of common sense and free of the delusions that pervade certain demographics of society.
However, oftentimes they are so down-to-earth, they can’t understand people who, for lack of a better term, has their heads in the clouds. Actors, writers, and directors, to name a few, often came from families like this who, at best, tolerated their kids’ unusual interests or, at worst, tried to force them into the “normal” mold. This was usually done with good intentions—wanting to make sure their kids could provide for themselves—but it came at the expense of crushing their children’s souls. It was a forced denial of who they were. It made the dreamers live while dying inside.
I know this from experience. My father has a blue collar mentality. When I said I wanted to go to college to study writing, he was supportive. He even helped pay for it. But then a couple years ago, he revealed to me that when I made that decision, he thought I was crazy. He didn’t think I could make it as a writer. I was flabbergasted, disappointed, angry. This was the man who, just a few years before, read my first novel, Pandora’s Box, and liked it; who read my newspaper articles and thought I was an ideal journalist because I didn’t put any biased spin in them. It was, to say the least, a bit of a blow, especially since I was (and am) a struggling artist.
My theory is people like this don’t understand dreamers for two reasons: 1) The dreamer’s path to success is more abstract, less direct, and less certain, and 2) the dreamer’s aspirations and goals are too “pie-in-the-sky.” Going to a factory or office and putting in one’s eight-hour shift is simple and direct. The most such workers have to think about is perhaps moving up in the company and/or getting a raise. Dreamers have to take risks and think outside the box. Someone who aspires to start a nonprofit to, say, help inner city kids has to do fundraisers. Writers have to submit stories to publishers and agents. Actors have to attend auditions. In all these cases, there’s no guarantee of success, and initial success doesn’t always guarantee ongoing success. They don’t get paid a salary or an hourly wage. The closest equivalent are independent contractors. It’s also usually a slow, gradual process to becoming “successful” for the dreamer. This is why most, including myself, hold down “day jobs” until they reach a point where they earn a living doing their “unorthodox” dream jobs. These aren’t usually the most glamorous or high-paying of day jobs, which doesn’t reflect well on the dreamers. (I’ve heard many stories of now-famous actors who worked at restaurants until they became successful).
Dreamers walk difficult roads, but if they stick it out, the results not only include a satisfying career for them, but changed lives for many others. Nonprofit organizations save lives. Writers and artists entertain and, most importantly, enlighten audiences with their art (if done right). Actors can do the same. The notoriety they gain through these can give them platforms from which they can do other great works.
This is why I’m a dreamer. This is why I support dreamers.
If you’re a dreamer, don’t give up!
If you know dreamers, I hope you will encourage them.
Are you a dreamer? If so, what are your “lofty” aspirations?