How I Saw The Hero Change - A Look At Heroes In The Movies

I was raised in a pretty traditional home in rural Vermont. My father was a police officer. My mother a God-fearing woman. So a strong sense of justice and right and wrong was instilled in me.

As a kid, the types of heroes I gravitated to were the heart-of-gold heroes, uncompromising and duty-bound. The heroes who believed in truth and justice. Superman. Batman. Luke Skywalker. He-Man. The Ninja Turtles.

In the early 1980s, there was no question that heroes were good. It didn't matter what made them good, just that they were good, that they fought the bad guys and won in the end. And that's pretty much all I cared about too.

Arnold Schwarzenegger as Handsome Stranger in Cactus Jack

When I was around eight years old, my mother introduced me to a movie that changed my perspective on what makes a hero. Cactus Jack, also known as The Villain, was a western comedy that starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as Handsome Stranger, a perfect cowboy who did what was right because, well, it was right. In my little eight-year-old eyes a hero couldn't get any bigger than Schwarzenegger. I mean, come on, he was Commando, Kalidor from Red Sonja, Detective John Kimble from Kindergarten Cop, and Dutch from Predator. He wasn't just a hero, he was the hero!

But the main character of Cactus Jack wasn't Schwarzenegger. It was the bad guy Cactus Jack Slade, played by Kirk Douglas, a thief and a scoundrel and a liar. Heck, he even had his own "Bad Men of the West" handbook. He was rotten to the core, but he was the hero of the story. Sort of. He was the focal point anyway, and it's the first time I remember thinking differently about what makes a character a hero.

Seeing the trend

As I got into my teen years I began to notice a trend in popular culture. Heroes went from being wholesome and good and chivalrous to dark and brooding and even more dangerous.

I didn't know it at the time, but the anti-hero was nothing new. The movement began, I think, in the 70s with films like Bobbie Jo and the Outlaw, Death Wish, and Dirty Harry—in fact, Clint Eastwood became the poster child for the brooding anti-hero for many years.

This wasn't just a film trend either.

In comic books, we saw the emergence of The Punisher and Wolverine in 1974. This ignited a dark and brooding anti-hero trend that exploded in the 80s with Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns—a title that redefined Batman as a nightmarish vigilante—and Alan Moore's Watchmen series, which gave a dark new definition to what makes a comic book hero.

In literature, we saw the popularity of the anti-hero rise with books like Steven King's The Dark Tower, Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club, and many, many others.

On the political front, Ronald Reagan began appointing conservative judges who cracked down on crime at a time when most of the public perceived crime rates as high. The sexual revolution and the Cold War era helped breed a mindset within American culture that had a lot to do with shrugging off society's standards and government control.

The public perception of what a hero was supposed to be was changing. No more Greek demigods or mortal "chosen ones." Heroes were becoming more human and more imperfect.

My favorite imperfect hero

For me, the next big milestone came in the early '90s when Bruce Willis took on his most iconic role, that being the tough-as-nails cop John McClain in Die Hard (1988), Die Hard 2 (1990), and Die Hard with a Vengeance (1995). I might not have been drawn to a character like John McClain with his drinking binges, foul-mouth, and bad attitude had it not been for the fact that my dad was also a cop.

The more I watched John McClain, however, the more I realized that underneath his imperfect exterior was a true hero. Sure, he was a nut, and he screwed up a lot, but you could always count on him in the end. Die Hard remains one of my all-time favorite movies.

Other movies that challenged my perception of what makes a hero included Sean Connery in The Rock, Martin Lawrence and Will Smith in Bad Boys, Wesley Snipes in Blade, and Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon.

The hero becomes the villain

Shortly after the turn of the century, I observed another change in how our heroes were being portrayed. This time dark took an even darker turn.

Sin City (2005), based on the graphic novel by Frank Miller, remains an incredibly grim and hyper-stylized story of bad guys doing the right thing. Its brutal violence pushed the anti-hero to the edge, even going so far as to make the audience root for the bad guys. (Let's face it, everyone was a bad guy in that movie!)

Also in 2006 Showtime presented us with Dexter, a hugely popular series that ran for eight seasons, based on the books by Jeff Lindsay. The hero of this series was a serial killer. Oh, sure, he was a conflicted serial killer, and the show did an amazing job at making him likable, but this kind of programming never would've been produced ten years ago.

The hero had changed again, and he was really, really bad.

How far the hero has fallen

Nowadays you'd be hard-pressed to find a film with a perfect, uncompromising hero. If you do, it's probably made fun of—i.e. Metro Man as voiced by Brad Pitt in Megamind, and Emmet as voiced by Chris Pratt in The Lego Movie.

The closest example would probably be Chris Evan's strong-jawed portrayal of Captain America in Marvel's Avengers franchise, but even he is depicted as being an archaic concept from a bygone era.

Has the concept of the "true hero" become a thing of the past? Why are we, as a culture, so averse to the notion of perfection? Why aren't our heroes wholesome anymore?

As much as we as individuals strive for perfection we know we can't reach it, and we're quick to tear down anyone who appears even slightly perfect. Tabloids hound celebrities for their dirty secrets. Politicians attack one another like rabid dogs to expose the skeletons in their closets. For some reason perfection makes us feel awful about ourselves, so when we meet people who seem to have it all together our impulse is to gossip about them, talk behind their backs, smear them, bring them down so we feel better. We hate perfection, and yet we're obsessed with it.

We want to see our heroes win, but it's like we can't buy the scenario unless we can perceive them as being worse than ourselves.

I guess all of this is to say as much as I've embraced the anti-hero with all of his foibles and problems, I kinda miss the heroes I grew up with.

Indie Authors Need To Make Waves, Not Splashes

I've been taking some time away from Children of the Falls and the world of Edhen to focus on a new project. It's a short book that I wanted to write to market as quickly as I could, because as much as I love my gargantuan fantasy novels they do take a while to write. I want to output more books, learn to write better faster, and hook into a popular genre that can actually put some money in my pocket.

Whether us indie authors like it or not we need to be concerned with output. A novel every year or two is not enough. We need to publish more frequently. It's the difference between making a big splash and making waves. A splash lasts for a moment and its ripples quickly fade, but waves never stop.

These past couple of months have been a test for myself. I've measured how long it takes me to write a 70,000 word novel, what my average per hour word output is, and whether I'm more productive at home, at a coffee shop, in the afternoon or evening. It's yielded some interesting insights that have shown me ways I can improve.

For example:

• As much as I love to get a blended latte at Krispy Kreme and work in the corner booth, I've found that my average per hour word output drops from about 1,500 words to a thousand or less while working in a public place. Ouch.
• Interestingly enough I find editing is easier when I'm at a coffee shop away from home.
• At home I did my best writing between the hours of 10pm and midnight with about 1,700 words per hour. I can't focus enough in the mornings or afternoons to obtain that level of output.
• The quality of my work is best when I've outlined what I want to write. Even if that means taking five minutes before my writing time to consider what direction I want to take a certain scene or conversation. When I've got a map to follow the quality and speed at which I write is much faster.

The new mystery novel is a genre jump for me, but it's a genre that sells more consistently than medieval fantasy. The problem with fantasy is that it requires an investment on behalf of the reader. People want to be immersed in the worlds of Middle Earth, Narnia, and Westeros, but they're often hesitant to take the plunge. Getting familiar with a new world is a big undertaking, especially if the author is an indie guy like me.

I appreciate the loyal fans I have for Children of the Falls, but it's time, I think, to expand my horizons.

The new novel, Rabbit Punch, is a vigilante mystery thriller set in a small New England town similar to where I grew up. It was inspired by a news article I read back in 2014 about a 72-year-old retired boxer who defended himself from a 20-something home invader. When this punk kid broke into his home and attacked him with a knife this old man took him down with two punches. The paramedics who responded to the scene described what the kid looked like after being hit by this old former boxing champion—"It looked like he'd been hit by a truck." I found that amusing.

I love old people. I think they're undervalued and underserved in this country. I think they've got so much to say and so much wisdom we can glean from if we weren't so wrapped up in our selfish day-to-day lives.

I'm looking forward to releasing Rabbit Punch for people to read. It's a fun, fast-paced who-done-it story with a dash of brutal vigilantism. Coming soon!

One Of The Best Things About Having An Outline

To outline or not to outline? That is the question every writer must face.

I'm big on outlining. I don't use bullet points or any kind of outlining nonsense they taught in school. My outlines are different. My outlines are straightforward story maps that I make before I start writing a novel. Some of them are so thorough I consider them Draft One.

I outline for many reasons.

1. To quickly get a story out of my system (usually takes about five days) and see if it's even worth writing.
2. To help prevent writer's block further along in the process.
3. To plan foreshadowing events and character arcs.
4. To ensure my story isn't just a sequence of events, but that it contains subtlety and subtext.
5. To build, not just a story, but a world within my story.
6. To make sure I don't screw something up (she starts the story with blonde hair, but ends the story a brunette. Oops!)
7. To help me remember what the hell is going on. (What happened to that guy from Chapter 3?)
8. To hash out plot points in advance so I don't get stuck.

I could go on, but eight is a cool number so I'll stop there.

Recently I began work on a new novel, something I'm aiming to write to market and release later this year. While on vacation I created a very thorough, chapter-by-chapter outline. I practically storyboarded the entire book and in the process found a gem of a story that I'm very excited about.

I started writing the narrative about a week ago, and last night I ran into a conflict with the plot.

"What the frack? Are you kidding me? All that work outlining and I run into THIS?"

Here's what happened.

In a nutshell, I had a character who had written down the license plate number of a suspected child abductor. This character worked at a hardware store and the suspect had been a customer. The license plate number was taken to the police in the hopes of discovering the suspect's name and address. But I ran into a conflict when it occurred to me that the suspect had just ordered some building materials from the hardware store. His name and address were already on file. There was no point in going to the police with the plate number because the hero already the info he needed.

And a whole subplot went down the drain.

Fluuush!

*face palm*

"You're an idiot, Craig. You wasted all that time outlining and look where it got you. Welcome to Writer's Blockville, buddy! I can't believe—"

But then the answer to the problem hit me. Because I had created such a thorough outline, because I knew the arcs of my main characters and knew where the story was headed, my narrative was taking on a life of its own. The solution to the conflict in my plot was already in the story, I just hadn't seen it yet.

Had it not been for my outline I could've wasted hours, maybe even days trying to dig myself out of the plot hole. But after a few minutes of skimming my outline I had a solution.

Outlining has saved my life multiple times. There are good ways to do it, and bad ways to do it, and, in my opinion, downright wrong ways to do it. I'm not saying it's the only way to write, just that this is one example of how it has worked for me.

From Tohellwithit: Those Spiders Are Too Big!

I love living in Maui.

I hate spiders.

No one told me about Hawaii's Giant Cane Spider (capitalized and bolded for effect). That's one of the things you learn after you get here.

I know what you're thinking. "Spiders. What's the big deal?"

Heck, I grew up in rural Vermont around barn spiders and big hairy wolf spiders, but cane spiders are different. They're like spastic anorexic acrobats if acrobats were the things nightmares are made of.

Cane spiders are about the size of a can of tuna, with leg spans that can equal up to five inches. They're super fast, they jump, and, oh, their eyes glow. Did I mention that? Shine a flashlight on them and their freaking eyes light up like headlights. Like demonic silver headlights from the pits of hell.

As if this creature couldn't get any weirder, it doesn't spin webs, it carries its egg sack in its mouth, and it only comes out at night because darkness is how it hides so it can murder you. See? This thing was created to haunt your dreams.

I might be slightly exaggerating.

Maybe.

Truthfully, I really can't complain. Cane spiders are harmless to humans and total pussy cats when it comes to confrontation. On the plus side they eat cockroaches—another one of Maui's delightful little natives that no one tells you about until you're here.

Still I'd prefer my house free of intruders with eight hairy legs.

Terrified in Tohellwithit,

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From Tohellwithit provides an optimistic/pessimistic view on life, love, and all the things that ruffle our feathers from the mind of author C.W. Thomas.