Wednesday Wanderings

A long time ago, I submitted a story to a writing challenge where a character in impossible circumstances (because aren't they all?) cheats on her husband.  A fellow writer / critiquer said they enjoyed the story, but had trouble with that aspect.  I said that I'd had trouble writing it, and the response was ... "So why did you include it?"

Not a bad question.

This aspect in film / fiction has always been a pet peeve of mine; I find it difficult to sympathize with characters in that position.  And that is why I did it.  I challenged myself to take on a perspective I didn't agree with and do it sympathetically.

As a writer, I think this is an important exercise; as a speculative fiction writer, doubly so.  If you write antagonists, chances are they espouse positions that don't align with those of your main characters (and we'll assume that usually, main characters have morals and ideals similar to those of the writer).  Can you make the antagonist convincing without at least trying on his shoes?  Can you write a nonhuman character if you can't write a perspective that isn't your own?

And maybe the answer for some writers is they don't, whether due to interest or because they are trying to convey a specific message.  For me, though, I like squishing around in heads that aren't my own, though I could always do a better job of it.  Maybe it's high time I visit a foreign (mental) land again.

Song Styles

I mentioned recently on Facebook that I've had a number of earworms running through my head, some of them stranger than others ("Living On A Prayer" substituted with the words "Pigeon on a bear," for instance).  One of those is from Kate Nash, whose CD I just purchased.  It's my first experience with Nash.  She's a lot like Lily Allen, with a piping, high-pitched voice, a chipper hand with profanity, and catchy rhythms and melodies, but (in my opinion, at least), her lyrics are quirkier and their path is a lot more meandering.

This is the song that keeps worming its way into my brainpan:

Mariella - Kate Nash

I identify with Mariella, really.  She'd get along with Angie Baby.  They might go on a serial killing spree.

Wednesday Wanderings

Work and life have been hectic - including some good writing news, as the previous post will attest - so I've spent a lot of time vegging out with television, and I've taken advantage of Amazon Prime's collection to binge House.

Now, House is not high theater.  It's formulaic, though the dialogue is often snappy and clever, and the overall series arc is relatively predictable.  However, there are two elements that are particularly well done, and I think there's lessons to be learned for writers.

First, the way the show handles filling in the backgrounds of the characters.  Every actor has to be well versed in rattling off arcane (medical) information, so it would be relatively easy to give them an excuse to infodump their personal history and leave it at that.  Instead, the characters make casual remarks that fill in bits and pieces - Chase has a rich dad; Cameron was married - sometimes approaching the same information from a different direction.  In their behavior, in their speech, in the ways they react, we feel the iceberg under the surface ... so when the story finally comes out, the audience feels they've earned it.

This cycle flows seamlessly through the first seasons with Cameron, Chase and Foreman, and then repeats with the new crop of residents added thereafter.  How the show handles the huge number of new characters is worth a look, too.  There's no possible way for the audience to remember, or even want to remember, such a cast, but for the audience to care about the process of elimination, the characters have to be memorable.  So the show puts shorthand right in House's mouth.  Through the excuse that he can't possibly remember everyone's names, he gives them all descriptive nicknames, drawing attention to their key attributes.  The names we need to know flow naturally in the background until we start to pick them out.

The second element that House handles well is making the medical "mystery" work.  It's the reason for that tight formula:  a major dramatic case; a secondary, minor case - often humorous; and one or two personal storylines.  The latter provide an unrelated dialogue that spark an "aha!" moment for House to solve the primary case.  This particular beat is overused in most mainstream television shows, from medical mysteries to cop shows to courtroom dramas, but I forgive it in House because it provides an important hook for the audience amongst a sea of the incomprehensible.

Because I put "mystery" in quotation marks for a reason.  A true mystery follows the rules of fair play, giving the reader all the clues they need to solve the mystery before the detective (in this case, doctor) does.  In the case of House, this is impossible unless the viewer has a medical degree, and possibly even then.  In fact, the average person has limited ability to follow the cause and effect of the medical aspects of the plot, which means that the elements have to make sense on a deeper level.  We have all internalized the basic shape of plot arc, so we instinctively respond to those beats, even if we don't totally understand the logical connection between B and C.

And the show does an excellent job of this, signaling to us where we are in the story progression with plot symbols.  The audience recognizes when the mystery isn't solved yet, and not just by looking at the clock.  Arguably, this is why House has to be so formulaic, and while Chase, Cameron and Foreman grow and change, the character of House himself has to be static.  Any major alteration to the way House works would jeopardize the plot signposts.

Or I'm simply justifying binge-watching as writing research.  Take your pick.

Family Tree sold to Metaphorosis

Metaphorosis just purchased my tongue in cheek fantasy story, "Family Tree," about an evil overlady - make that Overmother - and her wayward son, for publication around the end of the year.  Keep your eyes peeled!

Wednesday Wanderings

There's a phenomenon in fiction and film that I like to call "villain creep."  Villain creep is when an antagonist, whether they are the primary opponent of the main characters or a flunky / associate, evolves into an ally and perhaps even becomes one of the protagonists.  Villain creep often occurs when the antagonist reveals that all their actions have actually been in service of fighting even a bigger threat.  Differences are put aside ... and never quite picked back up.  Villain creep isn't the same thing as a pragmatic antagonist temporarily aligning with the heroes to solve a single problem, then returning to his/her roots; it's a permanent (or at least long-term) transformation.

It's easy to see why villain creep occurs.  For a character to be more than a cardboard cutout, they need to have valid motivations; in novels with multiple points of view, that sometimes means stepping inside their brain.  The writer begins to identify with them; so does the reader.  And sometimes the evolution makes perfect sense with the villain's goals.  It's the smart writer who lets the plot move in accordance to the characters.  On the other hand, it's also easy for a writer to sympathize too much with a character they've developed so deeply.  When that happens, villain creep infests the entire plot.  No matter how unsavory that new antagonist seems, they're probably going to end up helping the hero out eventually.

Villain creep happens in television for additional reasons:  viewers get attached to the actor (especially an attractive one); or the writers like working with the actor and want to give them a greater role.  (Of course, this doesn't explain incidents like the evolution of Aneela in Killjoys, because she's played by the exact same actress as the protagonist Dutch.  If this sounds confusing, it is.)

This isn't to say that villain creep is a bad thing.  (It had better not be, because I'm kind of addicted to it, myself.)  There is something deeply satisfying in watching a character we've slowly come to admire "see the light" - and it also makes breathe a certain sigh of relief and shake off the guilt we may have felt for sympathizing for him.  Handled right, the surprise has the perfect punch.  But when used again, the impact slowly lessens.  So the best way to incorporate villain creep is in moderation, and perhaps in combination with movement in the other direction:  protagonists turning coat and joining the other side.

Is hero creep a thing?  Certainly not to the same extent, possibly because we all like to think we're the hero of our stories, not the villain; watching those we identify with become the enemy is unsettling.  But every now and again, it's a good reminder that life is complicated, and people even more so.

Song Styles

Still working on my worldbuilding for my next novel project, then it's on to character profiles.  The dynamic duo at the center of this story, Pirelle and Chiria, both started out as D&D characters - both shapeshifters, because I'm a bit obsessed with that, apparently.  There's a song that inspired Pirelle as a character and shaped her personality and profession both:

Popular - Wicked soundtrack

Yes, I have an addiction to musicals.  I sought help, but it burst into song.

Song Styles

I'm a fan of the songs from the Waitress musical, the story of a waitress stuck in a dead-end town / job / marriage whose biggest joy is baking pies.  When she discovers she is pregnant, she dreams of entering a high-profile pie contest to earn a better life for her child (and also starts an affair with her obstetrician).  The songs were written by the marvelous Sara Bareilles.

There's an ongoing refrain that often gets stuck in my brain as an earworm, and it's featured here in the opening song:

What's Inside

(And if you enjoy, just let Youtube carry on:  it will flip to the next baking themed song, "What Baking Can Do."  Is it any wonder the pastry chef loves this musical?)

I find myself mutter-singing "Sugar butter flour" in the kitchen more often than I care to admit ...

Wednesday Wanderings

When I was little, I had a huge whiteboard - I think it was maybe 3' x 4' - that I used to draw maps on.  I've never been much of an artist, so it was all symbols.  Sometimes, it was countries, with swaths of coastline, little blue squiggles for oceans, and starred cities, but I particularly liked drawing towns and cities.  Maybe it was the level of detail:  I drew individual houses, placed shops here and there, and formed the outline of streets with the spaces in between.  The maps would stay up for days or even weeks before I erased them and started anew.

As I grew older and technology advanced, I started to dabble with map drawing programs.  Sometimes, I'd use them for existing projects, but more often I liked to come up with a map concept, put it together, and then come up with a world / story to match.  I used the map programs as I always had used maps:  to begin.

Over time, I lost interest in map creation, and I've never really come back to it.  It would be nice to have a formal map for one of my projects - especially since one of my fellow writers at Grimbold Books does beautiful illustrations - but I don't need it.  I can arrange countries and lay out rivers and lakes in my head without the need for the visual reinforcement.

In fact, I'm not sure there's much visual about it at all.  It's very possible that the way I think about positioning and geography is a kinesthetic, bodily system of organization.  Sadly, this theory is reinforced by how much trouble I've have had with the maps in my wine studies.  When there's a tangible description of the relation between geography and climate, I can keep track of how regions interrelate.  But when it simply comes to dots on a map, all the visuals in the world don't help.

Song Styles

It's that time of year.  You're seeing it in stores, even though Halloween hasn't even hit yet and the temperatures (at least around here) are still in the 70s.

I'm talking about ... the Christmas season.

Deep, mournful sigh.

I have a wedding I'm playing harp for next weekend, but after that, it's time to get out my Christmas music list.  Yes, really.  A few of the tunes are obscure and I play them all year round because no one would recognize them as holiday, but most are distinctly seasonal, so I haven't touched them in months.  With a forty-plus tune repertoire, ranging from ancient carols to traditional favorites to Celtic off-shoots to contemporary merriment and even a Hanukkah tune, and considering that Christmas-themed parties start right after Thanksgiving, I need the time to dust off and review my holiday music.

I probably won't be adding new tunes this year, not so much because of time allowances - though there isn't much of that - as because I've currently hit the limit of repertoire that is a) recognizable; b) I enjoy musically; and c) is playable on the harp.  (For instance, I love the Charlie Brown Christmas song, but the accidentals and chord progress make it impossible on a lever harp.)  I can also easily get through a 2-3 hour set, so there's no practical reason to add more.

Not that that ever stops me if I run into a song I want to play ...

What are your favorite Christmas tunes?  Obscure or familiar, new favorites or centuries old?

Wednesday Wanderings

Yesterday, I opened a new document and jotted down this:

                I may not howl at the moon or be stopped in my tracks by a line of salt, but the liminal is an inescapable part of my life.  I’m a Sniffer, which means I can detect the earthy loam of a dryad or the formaldehyde tang of a vampire.  It also gives me an edge in my mundane job:  I can detect the “tar and roses” of Nebbiolo from across the room, and at closer ranges, separate the green apple and melon of Chardonnay versus Chenin Blanc – the wet wool of the latter is a dead giveaway.  My two worlds cross a lot, because Old World liminus love their Old World wine … and if you had a magical affliction, wouldn’t you drink?

                The Old World versus New World divide that runs through the wine realm – tradition versus innovation; subtlety versus the punch of fruit; pride of place versus showcasing fruit – has its parallels in the liminal world.  Vampires with pedigree back to the Roman era often look down their noses at technomages and even Mayan alux, who pre-date a lot of European fairies.  Most of the less traditional liminus don’t stand on or respect their ceremony, but sometimes they come into the shop like nouveau riche, insisting on a bottle of Chablis.  I always feel like standing them in front of a map and asking them to pinpoint the region.  (Closer to Champagne than its parent region of Burgundy, for the record.)

No, it's not the beginning of a new novel - it's much too "telly" for that, not to mention that nothing has actually happened in a little shy of 250 words.  Instead, it's a loose narrative I'm using to help myself in my wine studies.  By putting down facts in my own words and building a story around it, I'm hoping to enhance my memory.  But the fact that I'm not trying to make something sale-worthy / viable means that I can jump around and focus on the topics that are giving me trouble.

All that said, there's still some worldbuilding implicit in the paragraphs above, because of course.  I'm getting bored with everything in contemporary fantasy being "the supernatural," so I've used the term liminal here - essentially, "on the threshold," which is also used in magical context / spaces.  So a magical being is a "liminus," and I spent a good twenty minutes flailing around the internet trying to determine if that was an appropriate cognate before I gave up and went with it.

This may end up sparking a short story or two, but that would be a bonus, not the goal.

Song Styles

Driving in my car a few days ago, listening to my most recent word association CD - see a few posts down - it occurred to me that one of the songs was an excellent fit for one of my male characters, directed towards my female lead.  His perspective may not be accurate, but Maren has definitely cut him deep:

Congratulations - Rachel Platten

Wednesday Wanderings

People recognize that red and blue make purple (unless they're colorblind or just plain stubborn), but not everyone realizes that scents can combine to make other scents.  Here's an easy example:  yesterday, I was making cinnamon french toast casserole and, at the same time, rehydrating raisins on the stove.  I paused, because it smelled exactly like Sun Maid Cinnamon Raisin Bread.  

But it's more complex than that.  Occasionally, I've stepped into the walk-in fridge and smelled something completely different, something for which we don't even have the ingredients.  The combination of other dishes cooling creates the perception of a third, unrelated scent.

There's science behind this.  The chemical diacetyl is present in butter, and shows up in wine that has undergone malolactic fermentation.  It's responsible for that buttery taste in Chardonnay, but there isn't actual butter involved, just the same volatile chemical interacting with retronasal sensors.  (Most of what we consider "taste" is actually smell that occurs within the mouth.  The tastebuds can only perceive tactile sensations and the basic tastes:  sweet, salty, bitter, sour and umami.)

I've recently become aware that I have a much keener sense of smell than I'd ever thought.  This is especially weird because growing up (and still), I had miserable allergies.  I was used to being stuffed up and not relying on my nose.  In fact, I still breathe solely through my mouth.  (Yep ... I'm a mouth-breather.)  So I'm used to thinking that I had a subpar sense of smell.  Maybe it's that I concentrate on it more than most people; maybe it's that I appreciate it more.  It might even be connected to my writing:  I've always tried to include smell, taste and touch in my descriptions, so I'm used to pinpointing and labeling.

However it comes about, I do notice the interaction of smells.  I haven't yet picked out a pattern as to what combinations create what results ... after all, the human nose can pick out 10,000 scents (at least), which makes millions of potential blends.  An olfactory rainbow waiting to be discovered.

Song Styles

I'm on my final editing pass for Unnatural Causes.  This is a targeted pass, to smooth out the additions from the previous pass and to cut unnecessary fat.  Since the novel is at 98,000 words and a bit of change, I'm in a different position than I usually am:  rather than looking for what I can cut that won't hurt the story,  I'm looking for what I can cut that will help the story.

So in honor of that, here's (one of) the quirky song(s) that I put down as a themesong for my narrator, Vil.  It's inside out and topsy-turvy, much like Vil herself even before the chaotic events of the novel:

Anywhere Is - Enya

This music video also gets thumbs up from me for actually connecting to the music.  Nothing drives me more nuts when the music tells one story and the video another ...

Well, all right.  People who say things happen "on accident" drive me more nuts.

Wednesday Wanderings

Between the chaos of my daily life, I've been working on the worldbuilding for my next novel project.  It's coming together somewhat differently from my usual process, and I hope the changes will pay off.

I typically do a few short sections on global elements - cosmology, world history, magic system, general geography - and then focus on the specific individual countries about which I'm writing.  Elements may bleed over from country to country, or I may deliberately set up contrast between them.

With this project, I'm spending a lot more time on the global ... but rather than precise definitions, I've included scope, variance, and tendencies - a broader approach that gives me a framework upon which to hang individual regions (and individuals).  My hope is that the end result will be more granular, less neatly defined, and that when I get down to specific countries and cities, I'll have a clearer sense of how they fit into the world as a whole.

In particular, rather than simply saying "this is what religious people believe," (as if one global religion is realistic!) I've created a quartet of deities who manifest in different ways.  Some denominations may revere all four; others may believe in the existence of only a single deity; still others might believe in two, but consider them "good" and "evil."

It's a lot more work, but a) I think it will go quicker when I get down to the specifics, since I won't be creating so much wholecloth; and b) ... let's face it, I'm obsessed with worldbuilding and I would cheerfully spend all my time doing it anyway.

Another change to the way I usually do things is I don't have a mental outline for what sections I need.  I'm writing sections as they occur to me.  For instance, I just realized that I wanted to go back and talk about holidays.  Now, this is a general / global discussion; individual countries might have their own days of celebration ...

I'm also running into the weird issue that the word "chimpanzee" feels irredeemably modern and I'm not sure how to handle referencing such a creature, but that's another story.

Anatomy of an Idea: Soul Medley

As I mentioned in my previous post, Soul Medley is now out in Andromeda Spaceways #72.  I discuss briefly the origins of the story, but here's a more detailed account ... spoiler free, if you haven't read it yet, though I do encourage you to do so!

Soul Medley started in response to a monthly challenge prompt at Fantasy-Writers.org.  The prompt was to write a story about / involving music.  I decided to build a story around the repertoire of famed blind Irish traditional harper Turlough O'Carolan.  He's easily the most prolific composer in the traditional repertoire, responsible for a few hundred tunes.  Now, I'm not a huge O'Carolan fan; like many artists who churn out works, a lot of them start to sound the same.  But he does have a few gorgeous tunes.

One of the most unusual is Eleanor Plunkett.  There are two stories around Eleanor Plunkett, one about the namesake, one about the tune.  (You may sometimes see it referred to as Planxty Eleanor Plunkett, a planxty being a tune written in honor of a person.  Many of O'Carolan's tunes are planxties, whether referred to by that name or not.)  Eleanor Plunkett, the person, was allegedly the only survivor of her family, who shut themselves up in their castle and drowned in boiling water (?!).  Probably historical exaggeration of some sort, but that Eleanor was the last of the Plunketts is not in doubt.

Legend has it that O'Carolan was playing the first part of Eleanor Plunkett, the tune, when a bystander commented that he'd heard another song just like it.  O'Carolan was so incensed he stopped right there and never finished writing it.

So that takes care of the inspiration for my main characters.  For my antagonist, I decided to reference another traditional harper:  Rory Dall O'Cathain, also a blind harper of Irish / Scottish background (both cultures claim him) who pre-dates O'Carolan.

Throughout the story, there are references to other O'Carolan tunes, such as Sheebeg and Sheemore (the Anglicized translation of the Irish title), which refers to a battle between the fairies over two hills:  the big hill and little hill.  And I tried to make the journey through the underworld feel like a classic tale of the fairy, while still having its own unique qualities.

ASM #72 Now Available!

It's out!  Check out Andromeda Spaceways Magazine #72 with my story, "Soul Medley" ... here!

Watch this space for a discussion of how this story came to be.  Or don't.  ;)

Wednesday Wanderings

Last week, I discussed the CW's fantasy series, The Outpost.  This week, I'd like to talk about one of television science fiction offerings, Salvation.

Or ... is it?  During the first season, I posted about Salvation's exploration of coming-apocalypse movie tropes - it's almost a love letter to that particular subgenre - and how it took the familiar and explored them more deeply, an opportunity presented by the longer format.

In season two, the difficulties of writing an extended storyline that centers around a world-ending asteroid begin to manifest themselves.  There's only so many scientific barriers to place between the main characters and the solution before it either strains credulity or bores the viewer with technobabble.  There's also only so many other kinds of complications before it is no longer a story about impending collision and instead becomes a story about all the ways people can be terrible to each other.  Salvation does a decent job of this, but it's the places where the broader plotline strays from this central plot problem that are the weakest.

Among those, Salvation falls back on a familiar trope of spy / thriller shows:  the shadowy cabal that manipulates governments and decides the fate of nations.  I'm not sure how plausible such an organization really is, if it could really exist without being discovered.  In fact, I might be tempted to say that such a cabal actually belongs in fantasy, not reality.

Then again, how much of the science in Salvation is near-future science fiction, how much is currently in our grasp, and how much is pure fantasy?  I don't know enough about technology to answer that question.  For the matter of that, how many purely "real" shows indulge in technological solutions that don't yet exist?  Fudge the details of a drug?  Even grounded politics-based shows like Madam Secretary use invented countries to avoid insulting real nations, create tension that wouldn't be possible with a real place, or create parallels comfortably removed from our reality.

What about those cop shows where a single forensics expert does the work of six, so the viewer doesn't have to remember six people?  Or, as my mother is fond of pointing out, the attire that no real cop / attorney / businessperson would be allowed to wear to work?  Ultimately, every work of fiction is a fantasy, a reality that doesn't quite mesh with our own; that makes assumptions about the world which may or may not be accurate; that changes the rules to make for the best story.

So when it comes to defining genre lines, there's a lot to be said for that old saw about pornography:  you can't define it, but you know it when you see it.  It's a lot about overall feel.  Salvation feels like science fiction to me, so I choose to call it that.  If you chant a spell to become invisible, it's fantasy; if you press a button on a gadget, it's science fiction.  There was a time (I'm not sure if it's true any more) where scientists were certain that time travel was impossible, so any story that contained it was necessarily fantasy ... but time travel is so ingrained in our concept of science fiction that it continued to be classified that way.  Handwaving a memory-wiping drug in an otherwise non-fantastical thriller is fine, as long as it's plausible.

For a show that does an excellent job of keeping the viewer guessing about the paranormal - is this fantasy?  Is there a rational explanation?  Is what the characters believe more important than what's really going on? - check out Fortitude.  And expect things to get progressively weirder ... 

Song Styles

Another few months, another set of CDs and music to accompany me upon my travels through the strange lands of the midwest.  Besides the themed sets, I enjoy doing word association, where song titles string one into the next through linked words, concepts, and occasionally shameless punnery.  This is my most recent set of songs:

A Hundred Wishes - Loreena McKennitt
1000 Miles Away - Carrie Newcomer
Many The Miles - Sara Bareilles
Miles From Our Home - Cowboy Junkies
Feels Like Home - Chantal Kreviazuk
Are You Home - Broods
Walking Home - Metisse
Take Me Home - Sophie Ellis-Bextor
House - Sahlene
Cigarettes and Housework - Rachel Fuller
Smoke - Natalie Imbruglia
Skies on Fire - The Green Children
World on Fire - Sarah McLachlan
Weight of the World - Chantal Kreviazuk
Heavy - Dreamgirls soundtrack
Heavy Metal Lover - Lady Gaga
Circle of Stone - Laura Powers
Circle - Sarah McLachlan
Never Ending Circles - Chvrches
Loose Ends - Imogen Heap
Let It Loose - Gloria Estefan
Break Free - Colbie Caillat
Breakout - Ronan Hardiman
Prisoner - Mariah Carey
Prisoner of Love - Miami Sound Machine
Hearts Without Chains - Ellie Goulding
Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken - P!nk
All The King's Horses - Joss Stone
Poem to a Horse - Shakira
My Song - Alessia Cara
Love Song - Sara Bareilles
Sarah's Song - Sissel
Good Old Song - Anne Murray
The Old Fashioned Way - Helen Reddy
Ages Past, Ages Hence - Loreena McKennitt
Dear Future Husband - Meghan Trainor
Marry Me - Martin McBride
I Do - Idina Menzel
Congratulations - Rachel Platten
Thank You - Celine Dion
Thank U - Alanis Morissette

Story Sale!

The Colored Lens just accepted my story "Canvas Captured" for their fall issue!  Watch this space for details and suchnot.

Wednesday Wanderings

So I've been watching the CW's fantasy series, The Outpost.  I don't know that I would have even known it existed, except that Dean Devlin - from Leverage - is one of the producers.  That's also what pushed me over the edge to turn it on, besides the fact that it's a fantasy series and I have a certain perverse desire to see those succeed.

At first encounter, The Outpost is purely formulaic, cliche fantasy.  There's an evil empire, which has taken over from the rightful rulers, and goes about oppressing people.  The main character is a Strong Female, an orphan whose village was slaughtered and is now seeking revenge.  She has incredible fighting ability for someone not formally trained.  For goodness' sakes, her name is Talon ... and this from a fantasy race that bears a remarkable resemblance to elves.

But then the little details start creeping in.  Those "elves" are Blackbloods, which gives our heroine some trouble when she has to hide her injuries and her nature.  The zombie-like creatures encountered early on are known as Plaguelings, and they have the neat (if nasty) detail of producing a venomous serpent mouth to attack their victims.  The Lu-Qiri summoned a few episodes in is recognizably demonic, but cut from an insectoid cloth, giving it an unusual appearance, and it's very well done.  (In fact, I think an inordinate portion of the effects budget was spent on the Lu-Qiri - more on that later.)  What's interesting about the Lu-Qiri plotline is the particular way the creature plays cat-and-mouse with Talon.  She may have called it, but she can't control it.

Most appealing, though, are the secondary characters.  First is Janzo, the odd little brewer who works in the tavern.  Janzo at first comes off creepy (and still does, at times - the actor walks a delicate line), but then the viewer finds out he's an awkward, weirdly charming, loyal nerd.  The second character who really jumps out of the screen is Gwynn, the outpost commander's daughter, who is first seen gambling in the tavern before she sweeps down upon Talon and imperiously demands safe escort home.  She's regal and mischievous by turns, able to wear the mantle of power but never taking it too seriously.  She becomes steadily more important as the season progresses, and Talon can't figure out *what* to do with her ...

Captain Garret is nothing much to write about; he rescues Talon, and they start up an angry / flirtatious banter.  There's even a scene where they have a fight, one overpowers the other, and Sexual Tension Is Rife (tm) until someone interrupts.  (Come on, really?)  That said, there are hints of depth to his character that suggest he could grow beyond the boy-toy role.

Overall, the cliche elements in The Outpost read like an attempt to make sure that the show is appealing and "safe" to people who aren't really familiar with fantasy - maybe those whose only exposure is the Lord of The Rings movies or perhaps a few episodes of Game of Thrones.  It has all the flags to tell the viewer that "yes, this is epic fantasy" ... and let's face it, the first few episodes of Thrones followed the same strategy.

The big difference is budget.  The Outpost clearly dumped a lot of its production budget into the Lu-Qiri and the Plaguelings, which effects are really well done ... and honestly, not enough into their stunt work or scenery.  Some of the wide shots are painfully obvious as CGI renderings.  But let's face it, how do you make these decisions when there's only so much money to go around?

Still, as The Outpost continues, the characters expand and the world trickles in, and one gets the feeling that it's poised to depart from the expected beats of stereotypical fantasy, and where it does to continue to follow the lines, it can do them well.  *If* it gets the budget to expand for season two ...