True Storytelling - Han Shoots First

Okay.  You know the story by now.  That famous scene in the cantina on the outer rim of a galaxy far, far away.  If not, here’s a refresher that’s on everyone’s (at least us dorks) mind now that Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace is back in the theaters to cash in on the whole 3D craze. 

So, who shot first?  Greedo or Han Solo?

There’re two opinions on this matter – George Lucas’ and everyone else’s.  Just to clear it up: we’re right and he’s wrong.

But why?

A good point, as presented by a commenter in the MSNBC article (citing FPBMurray37 on TotalFilm.com) is that Greedo, that green, bug-eyed alien, competent enough to be hired and entrusted by the most vile gangster in the universe to collect a bounty on the probably low-credit-scoring and delinquent Han Solo, couldn’t have missed.  He was a pro.  Pro enough to track him down to Mos Eisley.  Pro enough to corner his target.  Pro enough to get the drop on Solo at point blank, sitting directly across from him in a pub booth.

All was well with this for many years until, with the magic editing of George Lucas and the Special Editions, Greedo shoots first, putting a nice crater in the wall half a foot away from Han’s head.  And then, of course, Solo kills him, apparently now justified and no longer – at least in George Lucas’ eyes – a “cold blooded killer.”

Okay.  The Greedo Shoots First scenario, much like the commenter pointed out, is not very plausible.  Yet, I suppose, with a little suspension of disbelief, I guess…maybe…it could have happened like Lucas wanted it to.  I mean, that Greedo had some ridiculous hands.  I think there are suction cups on the tips of his noodley fingers.  Must be tough to get a grip on a blaster’s trigger.

So, maybe he fumbled.  All pros do.  This one was just untimely.

The "How" isn't the real issue though.  It's the "Why."  The problem with this justification of Han Solo killing Greedo is that this simple, decades-late edit has ruined the story of Han Solo.  No, in fact, it has ruined Star Wars itself.

You’re thinking, Hey, relax.  It’s just a tweak in a film. 

And you’re right.  Really, I’m not a Star Wars super-fan.  I don’t really care.  But I am a storyteller.  I am very invested in telling good stories and recognizing good stories, and as a storyteller, I’m telling you George Lucas broke Star Wars with that one revision.  As I edit my latest work, seeing the interconnection between character’s actions and their motivations and who they truly are, I find it unbelievable that Lucas failed to recognize all that he was undoing with his changes, especially given the brilliant stories the man has given to the world.

Greedo Shot First and Ruined Star Wars?  Explain yourself.

The Star Wars Universe in its original state – before Special Editions, before Prequels – was a dangerous universe.  Filled with wretched villainy and scum.  A dangerous place of Evil Empires and those who struggled to make ends meet. What gave this sci-fi adventure so much appeal to audiences was the “used” feel of the places, the ships, and the people and aliens that inhabited these worlds.

When Han meets Luke and Ben Kenobi, he takes the job for the money.  He couldn’t give a damn about anything but getting paid.  Because money means survival as much as the gun he carries on his hip.  He’s cocky, he’s hard, and in a universe where men get arms cut off in dive bars whose patrons take brief notice only to go about their drinks as if nothing happened - and he’s at home in it.  To be at home in it you have to be dangerous - as dangerous as the space that surrounds you, if you want to survive.  So what would a smuggler do when cornered?

He would shoot first. 

Normally, if Han were a bit player, nobody would care.  Sure, we’d think, Well, the Star Wars Universe is less dangerous than we thought, and everything is black and white, but whatever.  Except that now, we know exactly how things turn out in this Universe.  Han shooting first means there are good guys and bad guys.  No in between.  That means that Luke and Ben are always safe with Han, because he’d never turn them over when caught by the Death Star tractor beam, because he’s not that kind of guy.  And in Return of the Jedi, there’s no way in hell Luke takes the Emperor’s offer.  All that hesitation and angst?  You can flush it.  Because in this universe, good guys never falter.

Ruined it, you have.

The problem in the Han Solo character arc is that Greedo shooting first deflates Solo’s path to righteousness.  In fact, Greedo shooting first means Solo was never going to abandon Luke to fight the Death Star alone.  After all, Han has been a good guy all along. And good guys fly in an shoot bad guys out of the trench with their walking-carpet co-pilots and lasers.

But when Han shoots first, well, that’s different. Our eyebrows raise.  We’re invested.  We’re guessing at motivations and outcomes.  We recognize that the world these characters play in is multi-dimensional.  It can be unpredictable.   Like our world, the real world.  We see the honesty in how the characters relate to their circumstances, because we see it in our lives, every day. 

That’s my point, as a story teller – something that George Lucas has somehow forgotten.  We create places and characters and we have this god-like power to make them do and act in any way we choose, but if those actions and those characters aren’t true, or real, then what’s the point?  Why would anyone care?

WWII, Pearl Harbor, and Sacrifice

It’s tough not to reflect on December 7^th, 1941, and what it meant to the United States. 

Currently, my work in progress is about a thirteen-year-old boy and his life during the London Blitz.  I won’t go into detail, but writing the book has required a heftier-than-usual research load, which I absolutely love.  This time in history completely captivates me.

The late Thirties and early Forties must have been a strange time to live in.  This morning, I’ve been thumbing through my AMERICAN HERITAGE PICTURE HISTORY OF WORLD WAR II.  If there is a common theme across the borders and oceans, I think it would be sacrifice. 

As an American, December 7^th, 1941 meant a call for greater sacrifice.  The nation, possibly for the last time, set aside political, class, racial, and religious differences to band together and meet the call of duty.  Certainly, that is a romantic view of what happened, but for the most part, it is also an accurate view.

Still, it would take a few more years for the USA to get involved in Europe.  By 1941, England was on its own.  They had already weathered the Blitz but danger still surrounded them.  Europe was Hitler’s to do with what he pleased and he had begun to look east.  To Russia.

I think of my grandfathers during days like December 7^th.  One, Edward Floyd Lemox, landed on Normandy, only to be shelled by a mortar and spend the majority of his war in a London hospital.  The other, however, had a distinctly different experience. 

Lt. Lyman Cleveland Duncan was a B-17 pilot in the 463^rd Bomb Group, 775 Bomb Squadron.  He flew over fifty missions out of Foggia, Italy and received among his many medals, the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Purple Heart.  That's him in the picture, top row, furthest to the right.

His war, like may others, was a long, harrowing experience, filled with nightmare stories such as the time his navigator lost his head from a direct hit to the nose of their airplane by flak from a German 88 anti-aircraft gun. 

Sacrifice.  That is what they all shared in those days. 

So today, if you’ve got a spare moment, perhaps you can reflect on what those brave men, women, and children sacrificed so that the better parts of our humanity were not outcome by the worst.

MOVE

Returning in September for regular posts.  Behind the scenes here at INKROCK, we're in early talks about a filmed pilot...but more on that in the future. ;)

In the meantime, enjoy this wonderful piece of film by STA Travel Australia!

Buy a Book, Save the World!

It's a Double Post Friday here at INK ROCK!  Don't miss the first: Last Day of Premiere Week for The Story Behind the Story!

Back in 2008, at the height of the economic crunch, and during one of the lowest points in recent years for the publishing business, I launched a Facebook Group called Buy a Book, Save the World! in order to prompt people to get out to a bookstore and buy a book.

Well, you all responded.  The group grew to over three thousand strong and around that group, a small community developed where members discussed books, authors, and their favorite bookstores.

Facebook is now planning to archive that group (removing all our 3000+ members), so I've decided that now is the perfect time to reinvent the site and refocus on the author and the bookstore.  Buy a Book, Save the World! will be relaunching in the coming months and hopefully become an atlas for author hotspots and unique bookstores that are worth a visit.  I hope to see you there soon!

Stay tuned!

Lessons from the Hot & Hot

Today I’m having Shrimp and Grits for lunch.  Sometimes, being from Alabama can be a frustrating existence, with its corrupt, Third World government and underfunded, Third World education, but this is not one of those days.  Not when I’ve got a pile of fresh-caught gulf shrimp from Sexton’s Seafood Market sitting on a bed of McEwen & Sons organic white grits smothered in an acidic, creamy recipe written by Chef Chris Hastings of a local top restaurant, The Hot & Hot Fish Club.  Great name, isn’t it?  That man knows his groceries. 

For whatever reason, Birmingham, Alabama ranks with Paris, France for restaurants per capita, and many of ours are, quite simply, amazing (Hot & Hot, Highlands Bar & Grill, Little Savannah). In fact, many of these chefs have released wonderful cookbooks including Southern Table, Bottega, and Hastings’ effort, The Hot & Hot Fish Club Cookbook, which brilliantly divides the book in to seasonally available offerings to encourage the reader to purchase local, fresh, in-season ingredients. 

The funny thing is, Chef Hastings once fired me.  And deservedly so.  I worked as a bartender for him while trying to finish up college, but even when there, I wasn’t always there.  Distractions and stresses of dreaming up and preparing for the next steps of my life blinded me to where I was standing.  With the real world closing in and only holding a fairly useless degree in communications and film productions – in Alabama, for god’s sake – I was blowing in the wind. 

Now look, I wasn’t the best mixologist, but I wasn’t the worst either.  Though, I think I did once, during the blur of finals week, serve room-temperature white wine to a customer. Routinely, we wound up in the local hipster rag, praised with accolades of having one of the best martinis in town.  Infused vodkas, fresh squeezed fruits – we used only the finest ingredients.  My problem was, there were better and far more professional men and women out there, gagging for the job.  Sadly, I saw the position as only a temporary stepping stone to something else, and not as chance to enrich my life experience.  Since I had no intention of bartending for a career in a restaurant where the wait staff was, and still are, career professionals making a fine living for themselves, I got the axe.

Nearly twelve years later, I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass for not taking advantage of such a rich learning environment.  As it turns out, I love to cook.  But in college, I couldn’t see the big picture.  When you can’t see the big picture, you can’t appreciate where you are.  Things get missed.  Though I still never had aspirations of working in the restaurant business after college, I regret the opportunities missed from learning from one of the best places I’ve ever eaten in all my world travels. 

I think about my experience at the Hot & Hot whenever I catch myself looking forward to the future.  I’m not saying it isn’t okay to dream – of course it is.  But my failure at that restaurant was a product of focusing on the future at the expense of the present.  In the publishing industry, it’s prevalent.  Fueled by dreams of publication, would-be authors often shoot off unedited manuscripts not ready for the light of day.  Agents and editors are buried in these submissions.  Instead, I learned to take my time.  Take a breath.  In whatever I do, I try to be there and give my all to the moment.  You never know when you just might need what that moment can teach you.

Like lunchtime, for instance.