I blame all this silliness on Rumiko Takahashi, whose created worlds have
been mangled and twisted by wannabe writers time and time again; on Kurt
Vonnegut, Jr., whose writings remind me of my own, only much, much better
written (but about as coherent); and Takezo. Damn you and your prose.
Comments and further discussions are very welcome.
Gratuitous Self: Meta-Meta-What?
Prologue
A few years ago, during a brief encounter with tipsiness, I sat down at a
friend's PC and stared at Microsoft Word 95. I took another sip of the
gin-and-beer-spiked mixture of Sprite and iced tea and began to write about
writing.
The story was about a newbie named Takezo (for lack of a better name at the
time, I 'cleverly' stole the teenage name of Miyamoto Musashi) who posted
his Ranma self-insertion fic (which at the time was all the rage) on the
FFML. To me, it was the height of satire at the time, and I imagined the
looks of irritation on the faces of all the self-insertion writers on the
list.
It was my revenge, I suppose, for the rather tepid response I'd received
for the Urusei Yatsura/Ranma 1/2 fusion I'd written earlier, a tame fic that
placed Mendo Shutaro in Furinkan High School. I expected to get my name into
the spotlight, waiting for the public flames to come in (since there was no
moderator on the list at the time, thus one could expect one hundred fifty
or so messages a day).
No flames came in. Imagine my disappointment.
Instead, I received quite a number of supportive emails, to the tune of
'Hey, great fic man' or 'I know the answer to question X'.
Fluke, I thought to myself. I fully intended to get the Nabiki/Ukyo SI
boys' goats, so I continued with part two, increasing the melodrama and
creating a sort of rivalry between Takezo and the aptly-named 'Kojiro
Sasaki', the Nabiki cult head priest. The flames should start rolling in any
minute now, I thought.
I got more fan mail.
The Greeks invented a word for that sort of thing.
By this time I'd started to enjoy getting fan mail; I had a little folder
set aside in my mail client just for C&C which was getting fatter and fatter
by the day. I had sort of a rivalry going with my friend and fellow fanfic
writer Scriviner (whom to this day receives comments about the spelling of
his nom de plume), comparing how much C&C we received for the day.
In fact, I enjoyed the fan mail so much that the satire slowly got leached
out of the story.
Where is it now? Where is the original manuscript? Where is part eleven?
the longtime readers cry.
Nowhere, I reply. The fic has run itself into the ground, choking on its
own bile. It has subtly transformed into the thing it once used to satire.
So I won't bother to write the rest anymore. At least, not in story form.
But what happens to Takezo, and Nabiki, and Ukyo, and Kojiro? I hear the
readers ask. Not to worry. Foreseeing this possibility, I have decided to
cut out all the crap (ala Timequake One and Timequake Two) and simply tell
you about what was supposed to happen next.
In fact, for those curious about the original fic, but are too lazy to get
it from my site, or too smart to waste their time trying to wade through
that clunky piece of fiction, I'll serve up the good stuff here and leave
the crap out.
Here we go.
- 1 -
Someone once commented that Gratuitous Self was meta-fanfiction. After all,
it was about a story about a story. A writer writing about a writer writing.
It was a device, I suppose, to distance myself from the SI character; a
washing of the hands.
So here I was, the Pontius Pilate of the fanfic world, ready to talk down
to the mailing list masses from my high horse, from my podium on the altar.
I freely admit, and I think it's plain to see from my writing and my web
site, that I am a Nabiki fanboy. Others go Ukyo; not me. Yes, Ukyo is cute.
Yes, Ukyo had that boyish-androgynous-whatsitz appeal. Yes, feel sorry for
poor, poor faithful Ukyo. I knew where all of that was coming from, and yet
I was a Nabiki fanboy.
I don't really know why. Perhaps it was because of her 'cool' demeanor.
Perhaps it was due to her predilection toward money (a woman after my own
heart). Perhaps it was because her character had so much potential (read:
underdeveloped in the canon), just like Lina from Bubblegum Crisis. Perhaps
it was because she was the character who looked the best in denim cutoffs. I
don't know. It just happened. But I wasn't going to set myself up with her
in writing, no. I was already doing that on the online muck I joined.
So what did I do? Set up a writer who set up himself with Nabiki in his own
writing. Ah, yes. TimeRunner's Sermon on the Mount.
Lookie. I'm a pot calling you black.
At any rate, here I am, writing about writing about a writer writing about
setting himself up with Tendo Nabiki.
That makes this meta-meta-fanfiction, doesn't it?
Whatever.
- 2 -
At any rate, this Takezo person decided to write himself in as the
character in the background who appears from out of apparent obscurity to
save Nabiki from imminent doom. Yes. He leaps out from the crowd, saves the
damsel in distress from falling to her death, and leaves, giving her only a
name; Takezo. Musashi Takezo.
Isn't that always the case?
Some powerful character comes out of nowhere, mops the floor with the
regular cast, including (especially) Ranma, and walks into the sunset
hand-in-hand with the girl (or guy, usually Ryoga) of his or her choice.
Do we all have such unoriginal imaginations? Must we all display either
unheard-of powers or the same powers as the original cast, only much better?
Must the romantic interest always wonder after us after we've made our
dramatic exit? Damn it all, we watch anime, for Pete's sake! There are other
ways!
"Oh, Takezo..." Puh-lease!
I intended to show how a SI was supposed to be written, damn it. Although I
wasn't writing one, mind you, Takezo was. Ha, ha, I made a funny.
Lately, there has been a rash (a very apt word) of 'avant-garde
cutting-edge' SI fics on the list. How so? Well, they involve the character
being your ordinary Joe getting mopped on the floor by the original cast
(especially Ranma), but STILL walking away (and getting married sometimes)
with the girl/guy of their choice, although after a lot of quarreling,
misunderstanding, and shy courtship.
Wow! So this is it, huh? This is as good as it gets?
I made Takezo walk the middle path; displaying mid-level powers, bickering
with Nabiki, developing a secondary relationship with another girl, that
sort of thing. Not that I was inserting myself, mind you. I was simply
showing people how it was done.
I also have the deed to City Hall with me, if you're interested.
- 3 -
Bob enters the picture.
At the time, I felt that Bob was my true self-insertion, the guru helping
the newbie, the sempai to Takezo's kohai. I was, after all, moralizing to my
heart's content. (As I am now, come to think of it.) Someone was astute
enough to point this out later on, although he mistook me for an Ukyo
fanboy. Ah, well. Not everyone can be Sherlock Holmes.
Bob had that clever little name instead of some other feudal Japanese
swordmaster's name because, as I mentioned earlier, I had a
wee-bit-'o-the-drinkie. Otherwise, he'd be named after that great Japanese
blacksmith, what's-his-face. No, I am not drunk right now.
At any rate, Bob taught Takezo one of the most important lessons I believe
a writer can learn.
For example: Almost everyone who remembers it recognizes 'The Bitter End'
as an important work in Ranma fanfiction. It was the epitome of Ranma-angst,
in my view.
At the time, the [Dark] tag became vogue. All over the place, you had Ryoga
raping Akane, Kuno raping Nabiki, Ranma raping Kodachi, Soun raping Kasumi,
rape, rape, rape. True, it was shocking at first (I couldn't get the taste
out of my mouth for days after reading 'Poison'), but it got really boring
after a while. People making Genma rape P-chan just to get their names
posted is not a healthy sign for the list.
Then came [Sad]. People dying all over the place. Ukyo is dead. Nuku-Nuku
is dead. Ranma is dead (oh, wait, that's not a sad fic). You name the
character, bang! Dead.
Zen decided one day to have a nice little Ranma 1/2 murder, neatly
combining death and the [Dark] tag.
All over the place the responses flew. Akane is OOC. They shouldn't have
died so easily. Excellent piece of work. I just came from my failed suicide,
and then I read this.
Everyone happy? Nope. General consensus? Good piece of writing.
So anyhow, Takezo takes Bob's advice, ignores the pointless flames (you
suck, but I won't tell you why!), takes the constructive criticisms to
heart, and comes out with a much better fic than if he'd pandered to
everyone's whims.
Like Bob said, you can't please everybody.
- 4 -
What's the point of fantasy if you can't do what you want?
This is what usually runs through the minds of anyone (and I mean anyone)
who begins to write an SI. I believe that the two factors that control the
shaping of any SI are wish-fulfillment, and shame. That's right. Shame.
While wish-fulfillment would normally make you want to endow your fictitious
self with incredible sexual prowess, for example, shame prevents you from
making Nabiki, for example, say 'Oh, wow, were we really going at it in
there for a year and a half, straight?"
That is, unless you have no intention of posting the fic. I believe that
for every SI posted on the list, there are five unposted ones, and for each
of those unposted ones there are ten unwritten ones stuck in the would-be
writer's head. Those guilty, raise your hands. Okay, put those hands down, I
can't see the people at the back anymore.
So, with such a two-dimensional impetus, it's no wonder why some people say
that if you've read one SI, you've read them all.
Enter 'Turning Road'.
Why did Bob and the list give this particular SI the chance it got?
Well, if you ask me, it's because Takezo took a rather unorthodox theme to
his SI: Disillusionment.
Anecdote: The prince met the princess and lived happily ever after.
Story: The prince met the princess and discovered he had to face another
prince in a duel for her hand before they could live happily ever after.
It's been said before, and it'll be said long after I say it, but stories
have plots, and plot have conflict. In your average SI, the protagonist (the
author's character) either has to beat some evil nemesis to save the
romantic interest character or has to overcome their mutual shyness. That's
the conflict. Real life takes a back seat to swashbuckling or
elementary-school-level romance.
What is Takezo's initial conflict in Turning Road? His disillusionment with
Nabiki, who is turning out not to be the dream girl he imagined her to be.
So his courtship of her turns into a subdued rivalry, a Cold War, if you
like. Takezo's self-inserted character (and Takezo himself, for that matter)
doesn't realize that by giving his SI this bent, he has set up a story that
practically writes itself.
Better than wish-fulfillment, Takezo now has a story that even he doesn't
know the ending to. All he has to do is toss the characters together in a
situation and let them sort it out. Which is basically what happened. All
the while, the readers wonder what's going to happen next, unaware that the
writer doesn't have a clue, either. He's just waiting to see what happens,
himself.
I think if you're going to write an SI, you might as well enjoy yourself.
- 5 -
This is really turning out to be TimeRunner's Soapbox, isn't it?
Ah, well. It's my bully pulpit. I can say whatever I want while I'm on it.
As I write this little post-modern meta-tale, I can't help but wonder if
it's too soon to pronounce Gratuitous Self dead.
You see, the main problem with GS right now is that I've written it into a
situation that I can't write out of. The Here is Greenwood cast is messing
up my style, and Templar ain't cutting it as a main baddie - he's too
pathetic. The love polygon, though, is very interesting, and I'd love to
write about it more.
So I will. Maybe. Someday.
Right now, though, I have to work out just what I want to do with the
series, and I guess that's what this little multi-part tirade is for.
I guess another reason I haven't written about GS for so long is because
Ranma bores me now. I mean, I still like the series, and I can recite the
lines from the OAVs from memory, but, well... It's like Macross. It blew my
mind when it came out, but now even better stuff has come out. Mind-altering
stuff, like Evangelion, or Utena. Same with Ranma. I've read all the manga,
seen all the anime. Nothing left but fanfiction, and even that is getting
old.
Very few things about Ranma 1/2 inspire me anymore.
Except for the characters.
The secondary characters really pique my interest. Treated properly, they
can hold up a story on their own; notice the many Ryoga or Ukyo stories.
Ranma and Akane aren't all that bad, either; the reason they get boring is
because of everyone casting them in old roles: Ranma the insensitive martial
artist bumpkin, Akane the ill-tempered gorilla-strong uppercutting bad cook.
Boring!
Let's face it; Ms. Takahashi's characterization of her Ranma cast left a
lot to be desired. Why the Ranma cast wasn't as well-characterized as her
Maison Ikkoku cast, we can only blame on the target audience - young boys.
Yep, the same target audience for Dragonball Z.
But that's what fanfiction is for, right? So we can treat the characters
the way we want, right?
Apparently not. Just ask your local 'OOC' nit-picker.
- 6 -
There was this Stephen King story (the title of which eludes me at the
moment), in which the protagonist, a drug dealer, got stranded on an island
with no food. Finally, he shoots himself full of drugs and cuts off his leg,
or something like that, so he can eat it. Ditto with the other leg
afterward, then one arm, then...
What does this have to do with Gratuitous Self? I'll get to that in a
moment.
Life taught me that anyone could crash and burn. Anyone. Including me.
Anyone who's tripped and fallen face first into the rough asphalt of
courtship knows what I mean. It stings, doesn't it? It's stings like hell.
Your ego is not its healthiest after a beating like that, let me tell you.
How could someone you love not love you? Okay, granted, it may be an easier
question to answer for some people, but for a conceited asshole like myself
it was the dilemma to end all dilemmas. Not only did I fail at the game, I
lost face doing it! Unforgivable!
What does this have to do with Gratuitous Self? Well, here it is.
Takezo starts to write the 'Don't want to be tied down' scene in Gratuitous
Self 2, right? Where does he draw his motivation from? Me. And where do I
draw that from? My own experience, of course.
So what do I do? I summon up that intense feeling of jilted indignation and
inject it into the story. Personal experience lends a convincing sort of
sincerity to any work, be it a story or a painting. Then, voila! Instant
empathy from the readers. Readers are a smart lot, you see. They smell
something false in the text, they get turned off. Refreshing honesty, on the
other hand, makes you root for the protagonist even more. How else do you
explain the Ryoga phenomenon?
So there. Personal anguish distilled into a junk medium. It works, doesn't
it?
So, where does Stephen King come in? Well, writers sometimes need to throw
parts of themselves into their work. Makes for a livelier stew, don't you
think?
Yum.
- 7 -
Now, why exactly do I like Nabiki so? Why not Ukyo, pretty and intelligent
martyr of the Ranma cast? Why not Kasumi, archangel of domestics? Why not
Shampoo, Chinese cheesecake in a sleeveless red dress?
It think it's because Nabiki reminds me of a female version of... me.
I have a screwy sense of honor. I will lie, cheat, and doublecross as much
as I can get away with, but I will look down upon anyone (including myself)
who does all of these things and cannot come off scot-free, or cannot leave
the victim with a sense of grudging respect. If you can't leave your mark
with him thinking, 'By golly, that was some good doublecross by that nice
fellow', then why do it?
On the other hand, the same intensity of condescension (if of a different
variety) is reserved for those who insist on being honorable and noble and
all that crap all the way to the poorhouse, the mental hospital, or the
grave.
I blame this on my great-grandfather.
My great-grandfather Kisaburo, my grandmother told us, was heir to the
wealthy Orata family in Nagasaki, which was kind of like the Mendo family of
Tomobiki, only pre-world-war (I and II) in scale. One day, Kisaburo was
presented with a rather interesting dilemma by his honorable family.
He was to marry the daughter of another wealthy post-Tokugawa-era family in
order to unite the two clans to form a formidable conglomerate.
Really? I'm not so sure, what does she look like, I imagine he said.
We'll arrange a meeting, his parents probably said. But you will marry her,
if you don't want to disgrace yourself and the family name.
We'll see, my great-grandfather thought to himself, I'll wager.
They met.
The girl was most probably refined, demure, and polite, as was expected
from a lady of her social class.
She was also damned ugly.
I'm supposed to marry her? my great-grandfather protested. I don't even
love her! She doesn't have any excuse to be ugly if I don't love her!
Yes she does, his parents replied. She's the daughter of probably the only
family in this city who can match our wealth and family honor.
I still won't marry her, he said.
You will, his parents said, because our family honor is at stake. What do
you say to that? What about your personal honor? What about your 'giri'?
My honor? My duty? Kisaburo smirked. I'll show what I think about honor and
duty!
He left Japan for the Philippines, leaving his flabbergasted parents back
in Nagasaki.
He met my great-grandmother, a Filipina much prettier than the woman he
left back in Meiji-period Nagasaki, in American-Era Manila. They both fell
in love, and they settled down in a little town in the country, and lived
together with their daughter, my grandmother, who was living proof that good
Japanese and Filipino genes combined would make a wonderful combination.
They lived their lives happy and well, probably because they were less bound
by things like honor and giri.
Meanwhile, World War II struck. We all know what happened to Nagasaki.
Thank you, great-grandpa!
- 8 -
In Gratuitous Self, Takezo's masterpiece drew the ire of the local chapter
of the Holy Crusaders of Nabiki Tendo. In particular, the thing that got
their collective crusader goats was not the fact that he set Nabiki up to
fall in love with him - he didn't, as long-time readers know. What really
annoyed them was the fact that he had set himself up in direct opposition
with her.
Allow me to explain. Takezo, a classmate of Nabiki's and a practitioner of
Kendo (this was to allude to his namesake, as well as set up a possible
rivalry with Kuno that has yet to materialize), had fallen in love with her.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Takeshi, a friend and classmate of Takezo's, had heard of Nabiki's
maltreatment of would-be suitors and warned him about even attempting to
take Nabiki out on a date. He gets a punch in the face for his trouble. (As
an aside, the name Takeshi is an allusion to a lesser-known, at least in the
US, anime where Musashi, Kojiro, and even Yagyu Jubei are secondary
characters. Takeshi, by the way, is the name of the antagonist.)
Takezo, smitten as he was, went on the date anyway. As expected, Nabiki
bled him dry, as was her usual way of dealing with suitors. At the end of
the date, as per her usual plan, she 'broke the news' to him that she was
not ready for commitment. To bleed him of whatever money he had left, she
blackmailed him with photocopies of his love letter to her. "I liked your
letter so much that I made copies! I can't wait to show them off to
everyone! Unless... you'd care to buy them from me."
Unlike the others, though, who left broken, tails between their legs,
Takezo instantly realized that what Takeshi had told him was true. He
mustered whatever dignity he had left, lifted his head high, and replied,
"I'm glad you liked it. I'm sure your friends will like the letter as much
as you did."
The astonishment Nabiki briefly expressed after this response scandalized
the assembly of Crusaders. What utter gall! To depict himself as a worthy
challenge to their goddess' talents... It was unforgivable.
An initiate named Kojiro (another allusion to the Musashi legend) proposed
a retaliation fic, which actually was a variation of the revenge wars flying
around the list at the time, except less friendly. This appealed to
'Templar', who secretly fancied himself the worthiest of Nabiki fan boys.
How could he display his godlike powers (in fic form, of course) while this
upstart fanfic writer was upstaging him? He immediately set Kojiro on
Takezo's heels.
- 9 -
The title of Takezo's fanfic, Turning Road, is a sideways jab at a fanfic
author whom I will not name, and his SI series, which is oddly based on his
name. This series depicts the author... oh, sorry, the author-character, as
a godlike figure, shaping cosmic forces, mopping the floor with the original
cast (including -- especially -- Ranma), and fighting cataclysmic battles,
in the process getting Nabiki to fall in love with him.
I confess that I am not all that chummy with said author, but I based the
Templar character on my impressions on him. Blustering, self-glorifying,
limited writing skills... I tried to make the most ridiculous caricature of
my impression of him, and plant that caricature into the fanfic.
It worked. His pompous displays, his illusions of grandeur... it made a
nice contrast to Takezo, who was just trying to write a story.
Another contrast to Takezo was Kojiro - a man with adequate skill as a
writer, but one who was more willing to debase himself in front of his
goddess. In fact, it could be argued that Kojiro was a much better writer
than Takezo at the beginning.
Kojiro took the 'cold war' angle Takezo began and ran with it. He wrote a
sharp (if a bit heavy-handed, in my opinion) dialogue between Takezo and
Nabiki that left Takezo the author speechless, and not because of anger.
So here they were, the three protagonists outside the fic. A wonderful
study in contrasts, now that I think about it.
I think one of the reasons why the fic bogged down the way it did was
because I made Takezo and Kojiro friendlier toward each other as the series
went on. If I ever get back to writing Gratuitous Self (a possibility that
grows the more I write this) I will have to find a way to make their rivalry
even stronger, because combined (or even one on one) against Templar,
Templar does not stand a chance.
And when the conflict is too easy, where's the story?
- 10-
If I have learned anything at all while writing, it is that inspiration
cannot be forced. It has to be coaxed out, charmed out of its wicker basket.
Something has to happen outside its little shell. The Muse has to be
courted, to be seduced artfully.
I cannot write creatively for a deadline. Otherwise I end up typing some
banal nonsense that, frankly, does not deserve to be posted on the list for
public consumption. If it isn't good enough for me, it isn't good enough for
anyone else.
I found this out the hard way. The worst thing I had ever posted on the
list was a complete rip-off of an episode of Lum. I had not realized that I
had copied the Devil's Dance almost word for word and had simply replaced
the names. It was funny, and it was amusing, but it was not mine. Several
readers told me this in no unclear terms, and I realized my mistake too
late.
Ah, well. You learn. From that point on I promised myself never to subject
the list to that sort of nonsense again.
If this seems like an excuse for not posting the next long overdue parts of
my fics, well, it's only partly that. I'm trying to rationalize my lack of
inspiration. I'm trying to write it away, the way I used to do. I'm trying
to figure out what to do to win my Muse back.
If you find her, please tell her to come home. I miss her terribly.
- 11-
Gratuitous Self was in part a response to the climate of its time. Childish
flames and worthless character debate threads were raging unchecked across
the landscape borne from White Wolf's old 486. Crashes were so common that I
got used to waiting three days for my posts to appear.
I used to fear going home for the weekends, because it would mean leaving
my email unchecked for the entire three days I would be gone, and sifting
through six hundred messages upon my return was not a pleasant prospect.
This volatile environment spawned the idea for the Holy Crusaders of Nabiki
Tendo, which, like the list at the time, was the source of much flaming,
childishness, and crashing. These blustering idiots would launch ad hominem
flame attacks on poor writers whose styles and ideas clashed with their own.
Like some cybernetic Spanish Inquisition they would root out 'heathens' and
bury them in hate mail and poorly formed TCP/IP packets.
Those were the days when full-scale factional warfare could rage across the
list unchecked; when debates about OOC issues would comprise four-fifths of
one's daily email; when moderation was only a distant possibility; when I
would speak my mind without thinking and post a hastily written angry
response to some post I found either offensive or misinformed. I found that
last especially gratifying at the time; I could, and I usually did. It
wasn't quite the best way to make new friends, but that wasn't what I was
setting out to do with Gratuitous Self, anyway.
Recently I actually found myself wishing for those days again. The list had
gone sedate, I felt. No more English/Japanese name debates. No more
Ryoga/Ryouga quibbles. C&C had become either long lengthy expositions on
grammar and style (which, while infinitely helpful, is few and far between),
or simple 'hey nice fic dude'-type messages. It was so very civil, so very
sedate, and so very boring.
Then I read this wonderful, refreshingly offensive piece of 'C&C' today. It
was so crass and so vulgar that I just had to respond to it. An opportunity
like that doesn't come around very often, I thought, and I gleefully spun
what I felt was an adequately biting commentary on his commentary -- or, if
you prefer, a meta-commentary.
Even as I write this I am eagerly awaiting to see the response. Let the
good times roll!
- 12 -
I recently had my palm read by a friend of mine.
This friend had shown alarming accuracy with palm readings on other people,
much like the way I read the Tarot for other people, only more detailed and
in-depth. After amusedly watching him tell one friend to look for her lost
drive, another to wonder where her intelligence had gone, and yet another
that his palm held enough suffering for three lifetimes, I asked him to read
mine.
Apparently I was light reading compared to my other friends.
He pointed out that my private self had very little difference from my
public self, no matter what protestations I had to the contrary. He found my
inability to concentrate on anything if I do not find it interesting -- in
fact he predicted three career changes for me, none of which because I had
to, but all because I chose to.
That sort of explains my approach at writing.
The thing that most interested me about my reading, however, was the fact
that apparently I enjoyed the suffering of other people -- I find conflict
entertaining. This coincides with my usual roles in society: confidant (to
hear the trials and travails my friends go through -- I love a good story),
rabble-rouser (discontent is highly entertaining), and devil's advocate
(otherwise called a naysayer by my more idealistic associates).
I could have told my palmist that, though. Of course I love entropy -- I'm
a writer!
My characters are probably cursing me from whatever dimension they exist
in.
to be continued...
=====
Actually, as a universal rule, the longer a series runs, the
less C&C it gets. This does not reflect on quality or popularity,
it merely means that it's now taken for granted. Ask any author
of long-running series, and a majority will tell you that their
C&C has dropped off since beginning their project.
In other words, it's business as usual.
-Rod M.