For Christmas this year one of the books I got was The Dresden Files graphic novel, Welcome to the Jungle. By that point, I’d read all of the novels; but what got me into them was actually the TV show.

When the show came out back in 2007, I remember hearing vaguely about it via a friend’s blog or two, but I never actually saw it. Thanks to the wonder of Netflix, though, a couple of years ago I discovered and watched it on streaming video, and enjoyed it enough to want to see more – but sadly, it only ran for one short season of 12 episodes. Thus I went back to acquire and read all of the books as well; and now, of course, I want more.

The TV show adaptation wasn’t perfect, but it had a lot of positives, the first three being Paul Blackthorne as Harry, Valerie Cruz as Murphy, and Terrence Mann as Bob. All three actors did very well with the material they were given, and just as important, had excellent character chemistry with each other. Their acting made the friendships (and possibly more, in the case of Harry and Murphy) feel natural, and anchored the crazy storylines happening all around them.

Another thing it had going for it was that Paul Blackthorne has the acting chops to carry a humorous narrative voice-over without it getting tedious (and I am behind on the current episodes, but for an example of When Voice-overs Get Tedious, the first several episodes of Arrow unfortunately come to mind). Blackthorne (who is also on Arrow, funnily enough) kept the energy of the show going with his engaging portrayal of Harry Dresden, much of which felt like it came straight from the books. The writing was also fast-paced and fun.

One area where the show went wrong, I think (or, more accurately, didn’t go right far enough) was in whatever concessions it made to watering down the lore of the books for primetime. Granted, it seems that genre shows and movies have gained more mainstream acceptance in recent years (comic book movies and shows like The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, True Blood, etc.), and in 2007 maybe a genre show was a harder network sell and required some compromise (I don’t know), but I firmly believe that any time you tell a story well, and can draw the viewer in, the viewer will be able to handle and possibly embrace the complexity. And despite my dislike of some of Harry’s tiresome views on women, and the blatant male gaze readers are forced to sit through on occasion (particularly in the early books), The Dresden Files books are good, smart, complex stories, and should be adapted as such.

As I said, the TV show only lasted one season – and whether it was from creative choice or Firefly Syndrome (network meddling), it didn’t delve into or only briefly touched on a lot of the cool things that anchor and drive the direction of the books, like Harry’s past and progression in magic, or his place on the Council of wizards, or just how good he really is at magic and how that looks to outsiders.

I think one reason it just slightly missed sometimes was in this “not going far enough,” so to speak – because, for example, part of the charm of Harry is that he’s humble enough to know there are more powerful things than him out there and to be properly frightened of them 90% of the time; but whenever we see him through others’ eyes or whenever he really gets going with his magic…we the viewers get a glimpse of the discrepancy between Harry’s inner uncertainties and his bombastic power. And that can be a lot of fun, but was only shown rarely in the show.

For much the same reason that I enjoy, e.g. an episode of Supernatural where the FBI agent hunting the Winchesters because he thinks they’re nuts finally discovers that, in fact, demons and all manner of other creepy creatures are real, I enjoy stories that switch up characters’ points of view and give us different takes on the same situation, and particularly stories that shake up our, or a character’s, inaccurate assumptions. Reading about Harry dealing with Murph and trying to pay the bills and inner monologuing about how he’s not sure how he’ll make some spell work and all, and then e.g., going out and burning a house party full of vampires like it was no big thing, is that sort of story.

I say all of this to come back to the fact that last week I finally read Welcome to the Jungle, which is a visual adaptation that does well in this regard, and it reminded me of the times the show got it right, and of how much I’d really like to see more of The Dresden Files on television, or if not on TV, then in more graphic novels. Jim Butcher has said himself that he’s always imagined the series in graphic form. Despite the fact that I loved Blackthorne as Harry, I doubt a network would try to revive the old show. However, I could easily see a new adaptation being done; and I think if it, from the beginning, didn’t shy away from the more complex stuff, and embraced the big special effects as well as the small, it would be a truly awesome thing. I know that a new show is probably not likely to happen…but hey, a girl can dream, eh? So this is me, just dreaming a little dream at y’all. Anyone else think a new Dresden Files TV show would be cool?

Tell me if you do, and until next time, Servo Lectio!

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis

WEDNESDAY MORNING: Mike Gold

Art: Steven Wilcox

On their Facebook page, Airship 27 Productions announced that artist Steven Wilcox has signed on to do the interior illustrations to the second volume of “SINBAD -The New Voyages.”

Sinbad – The New Voyages Vol. 1 is still available.

You can find more of Steven’s work here.

“I grew up reading superheroes where the most important element of that name was ‘hero’ rather than ‘super.’ But, lately, a number of the books from the big two superhero publishers, DC and Marvel, seem to have forgotten the hero part of the name.”

My friend and fellow writer Corinna Lawson, the woman some of you may know as the Geek Mom who writes for Wired, wrote those words in her latest piece, entitled “The Cliffs of Insanity: Putting the Hero Back in Superhero.”

It struck a deep chord in me.

“The Death of Captain America” (Captain America #25, March 2007) scared me and deeply bothered me. It seemed to signal the defeat of American idealism, the loss of belief in this country’s basic precepts of life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and freedom for all. And worst of all, it seemed to me that Marvel was telling its readers, most importantly the kids of America, that there was no future here, that the dream was over.

It was an allegory; Marvel seemed to be telling us, for the death of America.

Oh, I think I understand why this story was written. Darkness had overtaken this country, starting with the Supreme Court deciding the election of the Bush administration, ignoring the people’s right to vote or to have their votes recounted or retaken. And the Bush administration, led by Darth Chaney, was such a causally evil administration, ruining the careers and reputations of anyone who got in their way, including people like General Colin Powell and outed CIA agent Valerie Plame, and casually lying to the American public and suckering them into an unneeded and unnecessary war in Iraq, while letting the perpetrator of 9/11, Osama Bin Laden, escape from Tora Bora because the administration could use him and Al Quada to continue to scare the public into accepting the erosion of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

Yeah, I got it. It did seem that America, the America I grew up in, that, even with all its continuing problems, the America that promised hope to the world, was dead and buried.

There is a reason why totalitarian and oppressive governments attack the arts and kill writers and artists and sculptors and ban plays and books and movies. Because the arts are where ideas flourish, where the flicker of hope, of what should be, stays alive. Most of us do not think of comics as part of the arts, but they are, combining both the written word and illustration in one format, and as art I believe that comics both affect and reflect society, and are capable of promoting ideas and initiating discussions.

Return Of The Jedi (which would have been a better movie if Luke had been corrupted by Daddy Vader, and Leia and Han had to save him, and then Luke could have saved his father). Ben-Hur. The Searchers. The Bridge On The River Kwai. Watchmen. Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Angel. Battlestar Galactica. Ultimately, all these stories are about the rich and complex nature of good and evil, of love and hate, of triumph and tragedy. Great stories are about anger and hate, lost and found souls, corruption and redemption.

Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With A Thousand Faces, which George Lucas used in telling the story of Luke Skywalker in the original Star Wars movies, is about the monomyth of the world’s cultures throughout history, which is the journey of the hero:

The hero starts in the ordinary world, and receives a call to enter an unusual world of strange powers and events – the “call to adventure.” If the hero accepts the call to enter this strange world, the hero must face tasks and trials – a “road of trials,” either facing these trials alone or with assistance. At its most intense, the hero must survive a severe challenge, often with help earned along the journey. If the hero survives, the hero may achieve a great gift – the “goal or boon” – that results in the discovery of important self-knowledge. The hero must then decide whether to return with this boon – the “return to the ordinary world” – and often faces more challenges on the return journey. If the hero is successful in returning, the boon or gift may be used to improve the world – the application of the boon.”

Once upon a time, our comic book heroes took this journey.

Now?

As Corinna wrote, “But, lately, a number of the books from the big two superhero publishers, DC and Marvel, seem to have forgotten the hero part of the name.”

I agree, Corinna.

Too many of our comic heroes have lost their way.

TUESDAY MORNING: Emily S. Whitten

TUESDAY AFTERNOON: Michael Davis

Everyone has secrets. The thing is, secrets want to be told. The level of intimacy we have with another person is reflected by the number of secrets we share with them.

There are many different levels of secrets. Some would seem mundane – your name, for example. Unless you’re wearing a name tag, a stranger won’t know it. You have to choose to share it and there are occasions when you wouldn’t or would only give your first name or maybe even a name that isn’t your own. In the latest Star Trek film, Uhura doesn’t give James T. Kirk her full name. In the same movie, a young and defiant James Tiberius Kirk gives a police officer (policebot?) his full name. Both are choices that say something of the character.

There are other levels of secrets, some mundane, some deeper. Boy meets girl. Boy wants girl’s phone number (or vice versa). At the moment the question is asked, the answer is a secret. A decision is made to share it or not. I have known many ladies not always eager to share that phone number with me and some with whom I did not want to share mine. Sometimes you can tell crazy pretty quick.

There are deeper levels of secrets. Your address, are you in a relationship, your social security number, your password on different sites. There are secrets you share with your friends but maybe not your family and vice versa. There are secrets you share only with your best friends or with that one special person. There are secrets you share with no one, keeping them to yourself. There are secrets, truths about you, that you keep even from yourself.

In writing, secrets can be powerful tools for creating and understanding a character. There are all kinds of secrets, great and small, that will help you define the character for yourself and your readers.

Secrets can also define the plot. Who does a character choose to tell what secret and when? Most important, was it as good idea? We have all chosen to share something with someone and it turned out to be a bad idea. If that’s true for you, it’s true for your character. Ever hear something that you labeled TMI – Too Much Information? The character being told the secret may have the same reaction. How do you feel when you’ve told a secret and turned out to be TMI for the person hearing it? Awkward? Embarrassed? Or were you oblivious to it?

The reverse can be true as well. Should a secret have been told at a given moment and wasn’t? What effect does that have on the characters and the plot? What opportunities may have been missed? We all know moments like that in our own lives; what is true for us should also be true for our characters.

Why was the secret told or not told? Why was that moment chosen to tell or not tell? What was the character trying to get or achieve by telling it? Why did they not choose to tell a secret at the right moment? Fear? Fear of what? These all define a character.

Was telling the secret to a given person/character a good idea? Again, think of your own life. Did you ever share something with someone and later wished you hadn’t? When reading a story or watching a movie or TV show or a play, did you even hear a character tell a secret to another character and wince, knowing it was a bad idea even if the character didn’t yet know it?

There’s also telling someone else’s secret. Sometimes it’s a betrayal; sometimes it’s necessity. Which is it and, again, why did the character choose to share that secret at that moment and with whom? Why would you?

In writing, in life, secrets tell us a lot about someone. Knowing them is powerful. We never, however, can or should know all the secrets of a person or a character. As writer, I often know more about the character than I share with a reader. There should always be a bit of mystery, a secret not yet shared hiding within us, within the character.

It comes down to trust. You have to trust in order to share. Sometimes that trust is misplaced and sometimes it’s not. All that drives story – our own or in the stories we create.

MONDAY MORNING: Mindy Newell

TUESDAY MORNING: Emily S. Whitten