Look, I was never one for conspiracy theories and crazy talk like that. Now don't get me wrong, I've seen some crazy stuff in my time. Especially ever since I got bit by what turned out to be a were-dog while on a sight-seeing tour in Italy. But that has all been more of an opening of my eyes to parts of the natural world that I chose not to believe until it was thrust upon me.
I just never believed in some far reaching conspiracies. They are usually just to complex and the idea that hundreds of people could work together and keep it all completely under wraps. It's hard enough for any normal person to keep a secret, but we're talking about politicians who would throw their Grandma under the bus to save their own skin once trouble is on the horizon. If there's a class of people that would be incapable of successfully carrying out the type of conspiracy whispered about on Internet chat boards and the dark corners of coffee shops, it's politicians.
That was until last week.
To give you a little background, after I was bitten and infected with ALPS, I had a bit of a crisis of my person. Everything I had believed about the world went poof with a single bite. So I decided to do some serious soul searching and took off on a trip to find out what it means to be a were-creature. I traveled the world. I met were's from all walks of life and backgrounds. Still unsatisfied I searched out other forms of alliterative life. I eventually ended up in Eastern Europe where I met all kinds of Dark Creatures lurking just outside of civilization. They were both terrifying and terrified. For centuries they ruled man's nightmares but have been relegated to shadows and forgotten memories. They've become nothing more than the subject of old stories that don't even get passed down anymore.
I found them waiting to fade away as the world had passed them by. They stay terrified of a world that no longer needed them and live in the margins that are constantly shrinking as technology and people move forward.
Most I met while scary in form were decent enough. They understood their roll in this world and were just waiting for their fate to be revealed. There were others though who had pure evil coursing through their veins and were waiting for the destruction of mankind so they could take their place back on top.
I remember a particularly horrific mountain troll I ran into in the mountains of Romania. It was both hideous in form and putrid in its motives. A truly disgusting creature and I still count myself lucky I survived our encounter.
So imagine my surprise when I walk past a TV in a store last week and I see the same mountain troll addressing the press regarding a security memo regarding right wing extremist groups. I couldn't believe it. Here was this nasty mountain troll who had managed to become the Secretary of Homeland Security. It had obviously had some work done and put on some make up, but it was the same troll.
This shook me to the core. Can we take the rumors of Dark Creatures infiltrating the top ranks of the government as conspiracy theories from crackpots when the Secretary of Homeland Security is a verifiable mountain troll?
And then the question becomes, is the attempt to marginalize right wingers who are the one group who would stand up for guns and personal liberty an attempt to steer the country left or is it setting us up for an eventual Dark Creature take over by getting rid of the group most likely to resist?
All I know is that I can't discount those rumors anymore.
If you need to get a hold of me, my name is Deep Gullet.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Homecoming
"Hi everyone. I'm Hank and I'm a werewolf."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"It's been seventy-six days since I devoured anyone. Like I said a few weeks ago, that was a three hundred year old vampire who really needed to die. But I came close to blowing my streak over the weekend.
"I went back to South Carolina to visit my folks and to introduce them to Michelle. Yeah, taking the girlfriend home to meet the folks is a big step. At least it is for me. Realizing that I wanted my parents to meet Michelle made me see just how serious my feelings had become for her. It took me a few days to work up the nerve to ask Michelle if she wanted to go. I was afraid she'd think I was getting too serious too fast, I guess. But she didn't think that at all! When I asked her, Michelle's face just sort of lit up and she said she'd love to come with me.
"Her brother Luke told me later that Michelle had been thinking about inviting me to meet their parents. And she was afraid of the same thing I'd been afraid of! So, me asking her showed Michelle that I was just as serious about her as she was about me. Did that make any sense?
"Anyway, we flew down to South Carolina, rented a car and drove to Mom and Dad's house. They came out as we were getting out of the car and there were hugs all around. I could tell Dad liked Michelle right from the start. After I introduced her to him, he grinned and gave me a big thumbs up signal. Dad's not what you'd call subtle. Mom was more reserved, but she always has been the quieter parent. I figured it was because she was doing the typical mother thing. You know, where they size up their son's girlfriend to see if the girl is good enough for their son?
"We went in and Mom showed Michelle to her room. Yeah, separate rooms. I'd warned Michelle that was going to be the case. She had just laughed and told me it would be the same when we went to California to meet her parents.
"Of course, Michelle insisted on seeing the room I grew up in, which hasn't changed since went off to college. All my old Star Wars posters were up on the wall, including my little shrine to Natalie Portman and the slave girl Leia cardboard stand up.
"Dad told her, 'We left his room just the way it was when he went to off to college in '99. I knew he'd bring home a girl someday and I'd need something like this to embarrass him!'
"Michelle laughed. She's got a wonderful laugh! Um, sorry, got distracted. So, she laughed and told Dad, 'It's not going to embarrass him. His apartment looks the same, except he's added Lord of the Rings, especially Liv Tyler stuff. He calls her the hot elf babe.'
"Dad just laughed and Mom gave me a stern look, but she didn't say anything. I guess I'm supposed to stop noticing all the babes in the world once I've got a girlfriend. After that, we had dinner and settled in for the evening.
"The next morning, Dad made me go with him to the Home Depot. He had some heavy stuff to pick up and needed me to do most of the lifting. Michelle decided to stay at the house rather than come along. I think she was planning to work on convincing Mom and she was good enough for me.
"Dad and I were gone about an hour and a half. The minute I saw Michelle, I knew something bad had happened while we were gone. Mom didn't seem to notice and Dad was oblivious, but it was obvious to me. I told my parents I was going to take Michelle out to see the sights and we left.
"We drove around aimlessly for a while, not saying much. I pointed out my old elementary school, the house we'd been living in when I was born, things like that. After about half an hour, I said, 'I know something's bothering you, something about my Mom, most likely. She can be hard to get along with, so don't think I'm going to be upset at you if the two of you aren't hitting it off.'
Michelle was quiet for a bit, like she was trying to make her mind up about what to say. Then she said, 'Let's go somewhere quiet where we can take a walk while we talk.'
"One of the nice things about living in a small town is that it's easy to get away from it all pretty quickly. Twenty minutes later, we were walking along a secluded forest path I remembered from high school.
"I was worried at first, because Michelle wrapped her arms around herself, sort of protective like, and walked with her head down. I thought she was trying to figure out how to break things off with me. When I saw a tear run down her cheek, I was sure of it. Unable to take the suspense any more, I asked her, 'Are you trying to figure out how to let me down softly?'
"She stopped, startled, and said, 'You think I'm trying to break up with you?'
"I shrugged, 'I don't know what to think, Michelle. But you're really upset about something you don't want to talk about. My imagination is doing a number on me just trying to figure out what could make you so miserable and all I can think of-'
"Michelle sort of flowed into my arms. Isn't it amazing how women can do that? She hugged me tight and said, 'It's not you. It will never be you. I love you, Hank!'
"Then Michelle sort of growled, 'But your mother!'
"I laughed, my gut unwinding. 'Mom can be a pain in the ass, but her heart's in the right place.'
"Michelle didn't laugh with me. 'No, Hank, I don't think it is.' She sighed, still hugging me, and continued, 'You and your Dad hadn't been out of the house for a minute before she asked me if I knew about your taint. I had no idea what she was talking about and I guess it showed. That's when she launched into this long description about your tainted blood.'
"That was like a sucker punch to the gut for me. 'My tainted blood?' I asked.
"Michelle nodded, 'That's what she said. I knew what she meant, then, even if I didn't like her description. So I told her I knew you had ALPS and that I didn't care. She spent the next fifteen minutes lecturing me about all the horrible things that can happen around someone with ALPS, about how it can be passed on to children, stuff like that.'
"I looked into Michelle's eyes, 'I knew Mom never really adjusted to me having ALPS, but she's been told by doctors that ALPS can't be passed on to children by the father! God, Michelle, I would never have left you alone with Mom if I'd known she was going to pull that crap on you!'
"Michelle looked away from my eyes, 'That's not quite all, Hank. When it became obvious she wasn't going to convince me, your Mom handed me a big envelope, telling me to read what was inside, that it would open my eyes to the truth. Hank, it was all the junk Reverend Riley and his group have been putting out!'
"I went totally numb, 'My parents are-'
"Michelle quickly interrupted, 'No. I asked her about that. You father has no idea. Your mother says nothing gets your father angrier than Riley and his campaign. She says he always was short-sighted about ALPS.'
"Michelle looked back into my eyes. 'I'm sorry I couldn't hide my feelings better. I'd give anything not to have hurt you like this!'
"I forced a small smile, 'You didn't hurt me, Michelle. That burden belong to my mother. You're the one person who'll help me heal.'
"And that's when a terrible day got even worse. From behind me, I heard a voice I recognized all too well. 'Ah, ain't that just so damned sweet!'
"I turned around and there was Larry. The bully who made my life Hell as a kid. He had his whole pack of delinquents with him, too. 'It's about time you came back to my pack, were-wimp!' Larry said. 'And you brought along a friend for all of us to play with!'
"Right then I just snapped. I transformed and launched myself at Larry. I don't even remember what happened during the fight. The next conscious thought I had was Michelle pulling on me, saying, 'Hank! Come on, Hank! Look at me! You don't want to do this!'
"I came back to myself then and transformed back. The little clearing was splattered with blood and Larry, still in wolf form, was lying on the ground at my feet. He had been ripped apart so badly his healing was having trouble keeping up. The rest of the pack was no where to be seen. I let Michelle lead me away from him and back to the car.
"She told me what happened after I snapped. The short version is I kicked the crap out of Larry and was so ferocious I scared the others off. Michelle drove me around while I calmed down and got control of myself. Then we went back to my parents' house and I did my best to pretend I didn't know what my mother had done."
[Group: "Hi Hank!"]
"It's been seventy-six days since I devoured anyone. Like I said a few weeks ago, that was a three hundred year old vampire who really needed to die. But I came close to blowing my streak over the weekend.
"I went back to South Carolina to visit my folks and to introduce them to Michelle. Yeah, taking the girlfriend home to meet the folks is a big step. At least it is for me. Realizing that I wanted my parents to meet Michelle made me see just how serious my feelings had become for her. It took me a few days to work up the nerve to ask Michelle if she wanted to go. I was afraid she'd think I was getting too serious too fast, I guess. But she didn't think that at all! When I asked her, Michelle's face just sort of lit up and she said she'd love to come with me.
"Her brother Luke told me later that Michelle had been thinking about inviting me to meet their parents. And she was afraid of the same thing I'd been afraid of! So, me asking her showed Michelle that I was just as serious about her as she was about me. Did that make any sense?
"Anyway, we flew down to South Carolina, rented a car and drove to Mom and Dad's house. They came out as we were getting out of the car and there were hugs all around. I could tell Dad liked Michelle right from the start. After I introduced her to him, he grinned and gave me a big thumbs up signal. Dad's not what you'd call subtle. Mom was more reserved, but she always has been the quieter parent. I figured it was because she was doing the typical mother thing. You know, where they size up their son's girlfriend to see if the girl is good enough for their son?
"We went in and Mom showed Michelle to her room. Yeah, separate rooms. I'd warned Michelle that was going to be the case. She had just laughed and told me it would be the same when we went to California to meet her parents.
"Of course, Michelle insisted on seeing the room I grew up in, which hasn't changed since went off to college. All my old Star Wars posters were up on the wall, including my little shrine to Natalie Portman and the slave girl Leia cardboard stand up.
"Dad told her, 'We left his room just the way it was when he went to off to college in '99. I knew he'd bring home a girl someday and I'd need something like this to embarrass him!'
"Michelle laughed. She's got a wonderful laugh! Um, sorry, got distracted. So, she laughed and told Dad, 'It's not going to embarrass him. His apartment looks the same, except he's added Lord of the Rings, especially Liv Tyler stuff. He calls her the hot elf babe.'
"Dad just laughed and Mom gave me a stern look, but she didn't say anything. I guess I'm supposed to stop noticing all the babes in the world once I've got a girlfriend. After that, we had dinner and settled in for the evening.
"The next morning, Dad made me go with him to the Home Depot. He had some heavy stuff to pick up and needed me to do most of the lifting. Michelle decided to stay at the house rather than come along. I think she was planning to work on convincing Mom and she was good enough for me.
"Dad and I were gone about an hour and a half. The minute I saw Michelle, I knew something bad had happened while we were gone. Mom didn't seem to notice and Dad was oblivious, but it was obvious to me. I told my parents I was going to take Michelle out to see the sights and we left.
"We drove around aimlessly for a while, not saying much. I pointed out my old elementary school, the house we'd been living in when I was born, things like that. After about half an hour, I said, 'I know something's bothering you, something about my Mom, most likely. She can be hard to get along with, so don't think I'm going to be upset at you if the two of you aren't hitting it off.'
Michelle was quiet for a bit, like she was trying to make her mind up about what to say. Then she said, 'Let's go somewhere quiet where we can take a walk while we talk.'
"One of the nice things about living in a small town is that it's easy to get away from it all pretty quickly. Twenty minutes later, we were walking along a secluded forest path I remembered from high school.
"I was worried at first, because Michelle wrapped her arms around herself, sort of protective like, and walked with her head down. I thought she was trying to figure out how to break things off with me. When I saw a tear run down her cheek, I was sure of it. Unable to take the suspense any more, I asked her, 'Are you trying to figure out how to let me down softly?'
"She stopped, startled, and said, 'You think I'm trying to break up with you?'
"I shrugged, 'I don't know what to think, Michelle. But you're really upset about something you don't want to talk about. My imagination is doing a number on me just trying to figure out what could make you so miserable and all I can think of-'
"Michelle sort of flowed into my arms. Isn't it amazing how women can do that? She hugged me tight and said, 'It's not you. It will never be you. I love you, Hank!'
"Then Michelle sort of growled, 'But your mother!'
"I laughed, my gut unwinding. 'Mom can be a pain in the ass, but her heart's in the right place.'
"Michelle didn't laugh with me. 'No, Hank, I don't think it is.' She sighed, still hugging me, and continued, 'You and your Dad hadn't been out of the house for a minute before she asked me if I knew about your taint. I had no idea what she was talking about and I guess it showed. That's when she launched into this long description about your tainted blood.'
"That was like a sucker punch to the gut for me. 'My tainted blood?' I asked.
"Michelle nodded, 'That's what she said. I knew what she meant, then, even if I didn't like her description. So I told her I knew you had ALPS and that I didn't care. She spent the next fifteen minutes lecturing me about all the horrible things that can happen around someone with ALPS, about how it can be passed on to children, stuff like that.'
"I looked into Michelle's eyes, 'I knew Mom never really adjusted to me having ALPS, but she's been told by doctors that ALPS can't be passed on to children by the father! God, Michelle, I would never have left you alone with Mom if I'd known she was going to pull that crap on you!'
"Michelle looked away from my eyes, 'That's not quite all, Hank. When it became obvious she wasn't going to convince me, your Mom handed me a big envelope, telling me to read what was inside, that it would open my eyes to the truth. Hank, it was all the junk Reverend Riley and his group have been putting out!'
"I went totally numb, 'My parents are-'
"Michelle quickly interrupted, 'No. I asked her about that. You father has no idea. Your mother says nothing gets your father angrier than Riley and his campaign. She says he always was short-sighted about ALPS.'
"Michelle looked back into my eyes. 'I'm sorry I couldn't hide my feelings better. I'd give anything not to have hurt you like this!'
"I forced a small smile, 'You didn't hurt me, Michelle. That burden belong to my mother. You're the one person who'll help me heal.'
"And that's when a terrible day got even worse. From behind me, I heard a voice I recognized all too well. 'Ah, ain't that just so damned sweet!'
"I turned around and there was Larry. The bully who made my life Hell as a kid. He had his whole pack of delinquents with him, too. 'It's about time you came back to my pack, were-wimp!' Larry said. 'And you brought along a friend for all of us to play with!'
"Right then I just snapped. I transformed and launched myself at Larry. I don't even remember what happened during the fight. The next conscious thought I had was Michelle pulling on me, saying, 'Hank! Come on, Hank! Look at me! You don't want to do this!'
"I came back to myself then and transformed back. The little clearing was splattered with blood and Larry, still in wolf form, was lying on the ground at my feet. He had been ripped apart so badly his healing was having trouble keeping up. The rest of the pack was no where to be seen. I let Michelle lead me away from him and back to the car.
"She told me what happened after I snapped. The short version is I kicked the crap out of Larry and was so ferocious I scared the others off. Michelle drove me around while I calmed down and got control of myself. Then we went back to my parents' house and I did my best to pretend I didn't know what my mother had done."
Sunday, April 12, 2009
What's this world coming to?
"Hi. My name is Sean and I am a were-hyena."
[Group: "Hi, Sean!"]
"Life is tough. Wouldn't you agree?"
[Group: "Absolutely!"]
"I mean with the pressures of work, family, church, and the now constant worry if we are all going to be be employed next month because of the failing economy, life is frickin tough. And then on top of the normal stress of life you throw in the curse of ALPS and it's almost more than a middle aged man can handle. And then if that isn't enough now we got this Rev. Rile talking about internment camps."
"Maybe that's why this Craigs List posting was so disturbing to me. Check this out: 'Wanted Werewolf bite. My name is James and my life sucks. My parents treat me bad. They took my xbox 360 away for getting lousy a D in science. I need the strength of the werewolf to be able to leave this horrible situation. I hate my life. My dreams are full of darkness so I want my reality to be as dark. That is why I need your help. I have 500 dollars for the first werewolf to sink his or her fangs into me. P.S. The Cure Rules'"
"What is this nonsense? I don't get it. This kid must have real bad self esteem. I could see some emo shoegazer wanting to be a vampire. The media have portrayed vampires as suave and debonair. Not us Were's. We are always portrayed as greasy and pathetic waiting for death. Look at the movie Underworld. The vampires got Kate Beckinsdale in tight leather. The Were's got some greasy unbathed dudes. In American Werewolf in London the transformation is horrific and painful and then the guy gets shot. While that's not entirely reality, Emoboy doesn't know that."
"Even in Stephen Kings Silver Bullet, the murderous Were is a priest. Talk about low. Every one of the Were's I know would step down rather than risk offending God like that. Now a vampire maybe. They are pretty amoral, but Were's are the most upstanding group of folks I know. Of course they are all I know because I'm not allowed in large public places, judges orders."
"My point is that there is nothing glamorous about being a Were in reality or in Fiction, with maybe the exception of an odd sub genre of Japanese Were-Octopus Hentai. WHy would anyone wish them upon themselves. ANd then I read an ad like this and I have to ask myself. What's this world coming to?"
[Group: "Hi, Sean!"]
"Life is tough. Wouldn't you agree?"
[Group: "Absolutely!"]
"I mean with the pressures of work, family, church, and the now constant worry if we are all going to be be employed next month because of the failing economy, life is frickin tough. And then on top of the normal stress of life you throw in the curse of ALPS and it's almost more than a middle aged man can handle. And then if that isn't enough now we got this Rev. Rile talking about internment camps."
"Maybe that's why this Craigs List posting was so disturbing to me. Check this out: 'Wanted Werewolf bite. My name is James and my life sucks. My parents treat me bad. They took my xbox 360 away for getting lousy a D in science. I need the strength of the werewolf to be able to leave this horrible situation. I hate my life. My dreams are full of darkness so I want my reality to be as dark. That is why I need your help. I have 500 dollars for the first werewolf to sink his or her fangs into me. P.S. The Cure Rules'"
"What is this nonsense? I don't get it. This kid must have real bad self esteem. I could see some emo shoegazer wanting to be a vampire. The media have portrayed vampires as suave and debonair. Not us Were's. We are always portrayed as greasy and pathetic waiting for death. Look at the movie Underworld. The vampires got Kate Beckinsdale in tight leather. The Were's got some greasy unbathed dudes. In American Werewolf in London the transformation is horrific and painful and then the guy gets shot. While that's not entirely reality, Emoboy doesn't know that."
"Even in Stephen Kings Silver Bullet, the murderous Were is a priest. Talk about low. Every one of the Were's I know would step down rather than risk offending God like that. Now a vampire maybe. They are pretty amoral, but Were's are the most upstanding group of folks I know. Of course they are all I know because I'm not allowed in large public places, judges orders."
"My point is that there is nothing glamorous about being a Were in reality or in Fiction, with maybe the exception of an odd sub genre of Japanese Were-Octopus Hentai. WHy would anyone wish them upon themselves. ANd then I read an ad like this and I have to ask myself. What's this world coming to?"
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Man Behind The Curtain Speaks
Good evening. I'm Bruce Bethke, and I'm going to step out of character tonight and spend a little time answering one of the questions that's kept coming up ever since we first launched this site in June of last year. The question, in its least profane form, is:
The short answer is: fiction. Elaborating on this admittedly rather terse answer, it's about exploring the question of whether a blog engine can be used effectively to construct a serial fictitious narrative, and along the way to develop, over time, a corresponding collaboratively designed fictional universe.
In a sense, things like this are already being done. There are plenty of blogs out there right now that contain nothing but the purest fiction, although most of the ones we're aware of purport to be the non-fictional chronicles of the narrator's sex life and/or political activities—or all too frequently, both. We already know that a first-person blog describing, say, the wild and uninhibited sexual adventures of a beautiful young bisexual female advertising copywriter turned pole-dancer and political campaign web 2.0 consultant would draw a large and loyal, if perhaps completely irrational, readership. Probably even land us a movie deal, too.
But we are not interested in trying to pass our fevered prurient fantasies off as realities. And we certainly are not interested in producing any kind of porn.
Hence, Curse of the Were-Weasel: an intentional attempt to develop, over the course of two years, a shared universe populated by fascinating characters, and to use this universe to present a story in weekly, serialized, interactively developed, and not necessarily linear installments.
But why this particular story? We considered a number of other potential story lines first, but this one seemed to provide us with the greatest possible openness and require the least guidance. (This latter assumption turned out to be dead wrong, but more on that in a bit.) The market category of "paranormal romance" is unbelievably hot right now, as evidenced by the collected works of Laurell Hamilton, Yasmine Galenorn, Kim Harrison, or my own personal favorite, Ronda Thompson—
Ah, the giants.
—and it shows no signs of dying off any time soon. It's tempting to blame Joss Whedon and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992) for this, but I'd put the point of inception at least five years earlier, with Ron Koslow's 1987 TV series, Beauty and the Beast.
Never mind that now. The decisive points were that vampires are horribly and heavily overused in gothic serial romances (Dark Shadows, anyone?), but the conventions of the werewolf trope are equally widely known and were not, at least a year ago, so heavily overused. Besides, there are a lot of variations on the were-creature trope, and the genre is not without its opportunities for humor.
So were-critters it was.
But then the question became, how do you free the werewolf trope from some of its more inconvenient conventions? (Only in full moonlight, deathly allergic to silver, tendancy to black-out and experience periods of bestial homicidal insanity followed by amnesia, etc.) How do you turn were-creatures into intelligent, articulate, and sympathetic first-person narrative voices? In short, how do you bring them out into the light of day?
The answer came to us in a flash. This is the 21st century. What if were-creaturism was now known to be a disease: a terrible, communicable, debilitating disease with potential deadly outcomes, true, but nonetheless, only a metaphorical curse? Why, that would make the people who contract this disease victims, deserving not fear and scorn but sympathy and understanding—and all the manifold services of the entire Victim Support Industry! Why, we realized, if such a thing as were-wolfism were real, werewolves would be covered by the Americans with Disabilities Act, and not only could you not fire a werewolf who went feral in your office, you'd be required by Federal law to accomodate his disability!
And thus was born ALPS: Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome. A retroviral disease passed by exchange of bodily fluids (usually, but not always, via the blood/saliva interface involved in "biting" behavior), ALPS by some not-as-yet-fully understood mechanism activates dormant sequences in the victim's DNA, resulting in a so-called "transformation" into a temporarily altered physiognomy and accompanying reversion to primitive, predatory, carnivorous behaviors. Given that this transformation usually involves changes to the mandible structure and hair-growth patterns, the conventional (if distasteful) expression is to say that the victims have "turned into wolves..."
But why stop there? World folklore abounds with tales of were-bears, were-cougars, were-jaguars, were-tigers, were-badgers, and many, many more—including, yes, were-seals. So on further reflection we decided our ALPS victims should be capable of changing into a very wide variety of forms, according to the nature of their character, and all of which resemble various large, carnivorous mammals. (We decided to make a sticking point of the large, carnivorous mammal requirement, so no were-tuna or were-banana slugs or anything really silly like that.) Further, we decided it would make them more interesting if their transformations were not slaved strictly to the lunar cycle but rather erratic, hormonal, and in some cases, possibly even voluntary, and more akin to getting really in touch with their inner animal avatar than with reverting to mere mindless bestiality.
With those basic rules in place, all that was left was to come up with some excuse for our ALPS victims to get together on a weekly basis, in order to interact and tell their stories. Once we couched it in those terms, the answer was obvious: Were-Creatures Anonymous. Because here in Therapy Nation, what else would werewolves do but form 12-step self-help groups to help them deal with their issues, their feelings of alienation, and that ever-present urge to solve their interpersonal problems by ripping some jerk's throat out, tearing open his ribcage, and feasting on his still-beating heart?
The Curse of the Were-Weasel launched on Sunday, June 8, 2008, with "The Were-Weasel's Tale". Results in the first few months were promising, but to be honest, wildly erratic. This randomness was the natural result of the lack of structure and guidance I mentioned earlier; trusting to spontaneous invention was not working, nor was the lack of an overarching plot line. I've worked from rigid series bibles before and didn't enjoy it, but I made the mistake of going too far in the opposite direction.
Fortunately Henry and Vidad rescued the thing by staging a coup and assuming control over ramrodding the show from week to week. Since then we've introduced vampires, in a controlled fashion and subject to similar strictures as our ALPS victims, and developed a larger plot, initially centered on the Reverend Riley and his anti-ALPS movement but now grown to embrace "Dark Life" and the emerging struggle between the new breed of out-of-the-closet were-beasties and the older and more traditional cryptids.
The one thing that remains disappointing is the audience-participation angle. We chose to use the Google comment engine specifically because it enables readers to enter comments under any screen name they choose; we encourage readers to adopt a new identity (or many new identities) and participate in the commentary as if they too were members of WCA or one of the affiliated support groups. This is the area where we're watching for tryouts and prospective new posters.
Any more questions?
What the heck is the Curse of the Were-Weasel all about?
The short answer is: fiction. Elaborating on this admittedly rather terse answer, it's about exploring the question of whether a blog engine can be used effectively to construct a serial fictitious narrative, and along the way to develop, over time, a corresponding collaboratively designed fictional universe.
In a sense, things like this are already being done. There are plenty of blogs out there right now that contain nothing but the purest fiction, although most of the ones we're aware of purport to be the non-fictional chronicles of the narrator's sex life and/or political activities—or all too frequently, both. We already know that a first-person blog describing, say, the wild and uninhibited sexual adventures of a beautiful young bisexual female advertising copywriter turned pole-dancer and political campaign web 2.0 consultant would draw a large and loyal, if perhaps completely irrational, readership. Probably even land us a movie deal, too.
But we are not interested in trying to pass our fevered prurient fantasies off as realities. And we certainly are not interested in producing any kind of porn.
Hence, Curse of the Were-Weasel: an intentional attempt to develop, over the course of two years, a shared universe populated by fascinating characters, and to use this universe to present a story in weekly, serialized, interactively developed, and not necessarily linear installments.
But why this particular story? We considered a number of other potential story lines first, but this one seemed to provide us with the greatest possible openness and require the least guidance. (This latter assumption turned out to be dead wrong, but more on that in a bit.) The market category of "paranormal romance" is unbelievably hot right now, as evidenced by the collected works of Laurell Hamilton, Yasmine Galenorn, Kim Harrison, or my own personal favorite, Ronda Thompson—
Ah, the giants.
—and it shows no signs of dying off any time soon. It's tempting to blame Joss Whedon and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1992) for this, but I'd put the point of inception at least five years earlier, with Ron Koslow's 1987 TV series, Beauty and the Beast.
Never mind that now. The decisive points were that vampires are horribly and heavily overused in gothic serial romances (Dark Shadows, anyone?), but the conventions of the werewolf trope are equally widely known and were not, at least a year ago, so heavily overused. Besides, there are a lot of variations on the were-creature trope, and the genre is not without its opportunities for humor.
So were-critters it was.
But then the question became, how do you free the werewolf trope from some of its more inconvenient conventions? (Only in full moonlight, deathly allergic to silver, tendancy to black-out and experience periods of bestial homicidal insanity followed by amnesia, etc.) How do you turn were-creatures into intelligent, articulate, and sympathetic first-person narrative voices? In short, how do you bring them out into the light of day?
The answer came to us in a flash. This is the 21st century. What if were-creaturism was now known to be a disease: a terrible, communicable, debilitating disease with potential deadly outcomes, true, but nonetheless, only a metaphorical curse? Why, that would make the people who contract this disease victims, deserving not fear and scorn but sympathy and understanding—and all the manifold services of the entire Victim Support Industry! Why, we realized, if such a thing as were-wolfism were real, werewolves would be covered by the Americans with Disabilities Act, and not only could you not fire a werewolf who went feral in your office, you'd be required by Federal law to accomodate his disability!
And thus was born ALPS: Acquired Lycanthropic Polymorphism Syndrome. A retroviral disease passed by exchange of bodily fluids (usually, but not always, via the blood/saliva interface involved in "biting" behavior), ALPS by some not-as-yet-fully understood mechanism activates dormant sequences in the victim's DNA, resulting in a so-called "transformation" into a temporarily altered physiognomy and accompanying reversion to primitive, predatory, carnivorous behaviors. Given that this transformation usually involves changes to the mandible structure and hair-growth patterns, the conventional (if distasteful) expression is to say that the victims have "turned into wolves..."
But why stop there? World folklore abounds with tales of were-bears, were-cougars, were-jaguars, were-tigers, were-badgers, and many, many more—including, yes, were-seals. So on further reflection we decided our ALPS victims should be capable of changing into a very wide variety of forms, according to the nature of their character, and all of which resemble various large, carnivorous mammals. (We decided to make a sticking point of the large, carnivorous mammal requirement, so no were-tuna or were-banana slugs or anything really silly like that.) Further, we decided it would make them more interesting if their transformations were not slaved strictly to the lunar cycle but rather erratic, hormonal, and in some cases, possibly even voluntary, and more akin to getting really in touch with their inner animal avatar than with reverting to mere mindless bestiality.
With those basic rules in place, all that was left was to come up with some excuse for our ALPS victims to get together on a weekly basis, in order to interact and tell their stories. Once we couched it in those terms, the answer was obvious: Were-Creatures Anonymous. Because here in Therapy Nation, what else would werewolves do but form 12-step self-help groups to help them deal with their issues, their feelings of alienation, and that ever-present urge to solve their interpersonal problems by ripping some jerk's throat out, tearing open his ribcage, and feasting on his still-beating heart?
The Curse of the Were-Weasel launched on Sunday, June 8, 2008, with "The Were-Weasel's Tale". Results in the first few months were promising, but to be honest, wildly erratic. This randomness was the natural result of the lack of structure and guidance I mentioned earlier; trusting to spontaneous invention was not working, nor was the lack of an overarching plot line. I've worked from rigid series bibles before and didn't enjoy it, but I made the mistake of going too far in the opposite direction.
Fortunately Henry and Vidad rescued the thing by staging a coup and assuming control over ramrodding the show from week to week. Since then we've introduced vampires, in a controlled fashion and subject to similar strictures as our ALPS victims, and developed a larger plot, initially centered on the Reverend Riley and his anti-ALPS movement but now grown to embrace "Dark Life" and the emerging struggle between the new breed of out-of-the-closet were-beasties and the older and more traditional cryptids.
The one thing that remains disappointing is the audience-participation angle. We chose to use the Google comment engine specifically because it enables readers to enter comments under any screen name they choose; we encourage readers to adopt a new identity (or many new identities) and participate in the commentary as if they too were members of WCA or one of the affiliated support groups. This is the area where we're watching for tryouts and prospective new posters.
Any more questions?
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