Inconsistent, but nobody cares. . . .

My circle of acquaintances seems to be hooked on the zombies, werewolves, and vampires that I’m sick and tired of. (Of which I’m sick and tired.) They don’t even care that editors are allowing huge holes in the plots and flaws in worldbuilding, whereas MY books get dinged for ANYthing that they don’t trust me to know how to do. (If I drop in a little hint that the character is claustrophobic with an incident early on, they carp that I must take that out to speed up things because it “stops the story,” even though I *have* to let readers know about this in advance of the big crisis in which my character is stuck in a dumbwaiter and has a panic attack while overhearing the criminals’ plot. They let published authors get away with this because they trust these authors to fire the gun that they let readers glimpse in the first act, but they do not trust unwashed little me. That’s what I’m talking about . . . they don’t TRUST me enough to read on and see that I know what I’m doing.)

But anyway. One of the urban fantasy novels that my circle is passing around has a vampire as hero. Demons are possessing humans (ho hum, every day around here). A pack of possessed people (demons) mistake this hero for a human and pounces. Hero summons his vampire friends (I imagine they have a special tone, such as one of those Oscar Mayer Wiener Whistles that we used to get out of gumball machines–“os-car-MAY-er”) and kill the entire pack of the demon-possessed. Isn’t it lucky that nobody else saw/heard this melee? Isn’t it special that these heroic vampires are still secret, and no one even knows they exist? They disappear into the shadows with nary a siren or “Hey, you!” or guy hanging out a third-floor window watching it all as in “Rear Window.”

And no one cares about the HUUUUGE PLOT HOLES. Why is it that no one notices the pile of bodies? (They didn’t say that these bodies went poof or whatever–they just left ’em in a stack in the back alley. If you did that in OUR alley, our trash men would write a citation on you for sure! They are always complaining about my ligustrum tree and how it is reaching over the fence to slap them with its fronds!) What with these frequent killings all over town, you’d think someone would notice in law enforcement, if only from the sheer numbers of bodies stacked around. Doesn’t it seem logical that the coroner’s office might mention how these people were zapped, because they were torn limb from limb by some monster? And wouldn’t the DNA tests be suggestive of . . . something? I can’t believe no one would run headlines or cause a panic city-wide. The writer pretends that the police, the neighbors, the rent-a-cops or security people, and the teenagers who are always sneaking into alleys for a quick toke NEVER SEE THIS and are completely unaware of the existence of any of these critters. Everyone’s blase about the high body count of NON-HOMELESS types who would surely be missed and would be on the “missing persons” lists. Supposedly the vampires are secret because they rarely contact people, but here they are running into them all the time. Bogus!

But this kind of thing happens all the time in these popular novels. No one seems to care that there’s no logic or explanation. Maybe there’s an explanation that we’re missing. (“It’s all magic! Like the unicorn!”)

Bleah. I don’t read those novels. I like to have novels hang together, even if mine don’t have to.


Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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