'Hacker' Gets a Movie Adaptation

Ted Dekker’s novel Hacker, part of the Outlaw Chronicles series, is getting a movie adaptation. While this is not the first movie adapted from Dekker’s library, it’s one that I’m excited about.

I finished reading Hacker about a month ago. I knocked it out in three days. If you’re into present-day science fiction thrillers, then you’ll probably enjoy this novel. Seventeen year old Nyah Parks is a hacker genius trying to find consulting jobs to pay for an experimental procedure that could help her mother recover from brain damage suffered in a car accident. However, she soon realizes that her hacking skills have gotten her way over her head into a dangerous situation. She goes on the run and seeks the help of an old hacking friend she hasn’t seen in years. He’s been working his own project, hacking the human brain and breaking free from the restraints of the body.

I loved the book, and I’m interested to see what will happen with the film. I’ve followed Dekker’s career for almost ten years now, and I’ve never been disappointed with any of his works. He is able to mix real world reality with spiritual themes in a way that I had never previously experienced from an author of the Christian faith. He’s kind of one my my heroes when it comes to writing and being a novelist.

If you’ve never checked out any of Ted Dekker’s stuff, do it. Every chapter is packed with action or mystery or thrills. It’s so engaging that you don’t even realize that you’ve read twenty pages of it, and it keeps you wanting more.

Forever Hollow: Aerial Combat Unit

After arriving at his apartment, Lucian desperately searches for the porcelain statue. However, an unexpected surprise is waiting for Lucian. The Aerial Combat Unit.

Lucian nodded and steeled himself. Small punched through the window and cleared the glass with his pistol. Lucian crawled into the apartment and crept through the living room in search of the china monkey.

He found the coffee table with his shin and stifled a yelp. He limped to the couch and searched the cushions to no avail.

“Where is it?” he whispered to himself. He walked through the darkness. “Come on,” he exclaimed. The lights in the living room came on, and the television blared to life. Lucian cringed at the noise, but the image that appeared on the screen drew his attention. He saw images of himself and Genevieve all over the different frames. A journalist on one channel was in the middle of an explanation.

“…recently added these two to their list of wanted terrorists. They were recently spotted in the Potter’s Crescent district of Brightwater and have, with the aid of other known terrorists, engaged several federal agents, killing several. If anyone has any information as to the whereabouts of these two fugitives...”

Lucian muted the television.

“What’s going on?” Small yelled through the window.

“Sorry,” said Lucian.

“Just get the statue and get out here!”

Lucian spied the monkey statue smiling mischievously at him from the top of the bookshelf. He snatched the statue off the shelf and stuffed it into his backpack just as Small spilled through the window.

“Kill the lights,” he demanded.

Lucian commanded the lights and television off, and the two were surrounded in darkness again.

“I got it, let’s go,” said Lucian.

“Too late,” hissed Small. “You took too long. Where’s that evac?” he said into his radio.

“Few minutes out,” replied Gold.

Small cursed, and at that moment Lucian heard what had spooked Small. A silent, electric whir surrounded them. It grew steadily louder and hovered over the apartment building.

“What is that?” asked Lucian, catching the worried look in Small’s eyes.

“ACUs. Aerial Combat Units.” Small chuckled. “We must have really gotten under their skin if they’re sending out one of these.”

Small and Lucian approached the window and looked out. Lucian saw the small shadow hovering in the air. It looked too small for an aircraft. Small grabbed Lucian by the arm and jerked him away from the window, and they ran for the couch. They dove over the backside of the couch as a barrage of gunfire rained through the window, filling the living room walls with holes.

The assault shredded everything in the living room. Lucian tucked his chin into his chest and curled into the fetal position. When the gunfire abated, Small yanked Lucian to his feet.

“Let’s go!” he yelled as they ran for the front door.

Small kicked the door out of the doorjamb and found a GenRep waiting on the other side. Small put his Desert Eagle to the GenRep’s forehead before it could react and sent it crashing backwards to the floor.

They barreled down the steps of the complex and met two more GenReps in the lobby. Lucian and Small each took care of one. They could still hear the electric hovering of the ACU outside. Just outside the entryway, a shadow filled the lamplit street as the ACU descended. The oversized robot formed a rough shape of a man but did not have skin coverings like the GenReps. One large blue eye glowed in the middle of its “head”. The ACU readied two mounted Gatling guns, and Small screamed in frustration.

Sparks flashed across the ACU’s body, and it took to the air again as a black SUV screeched to a halt with Gold hanging out the passenger window laying down covering fire with a machine gun.

Lucian and Small crashed through the front doors of the apartment building and threw themselves into the back seats. Genevieve sat in the driver’s seat and pulled a quick U-turn, fishtailing down the icy road. Grey Wolfe sat in the very back seat with a splint wrapped around his right leg. Gold, Small, and Pyro all fired upon relentless groups of GenReps in pursuit as they sped through the city streets.

As they neared the outskirts of the city thinking they were in the clear, a slew of bullets rang against the back end of the SUV.

“That ACU’s back,” screamed Small. “Get us out of here!”

“It’s too fast,” said Genevieve.

“I got it,” said Pyro crawling into the back. When he reappeared, he had a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher with him. He crawled back up to the middle seats. “Open the roof,” he said to Gold.

The roof of the SUV folded back onto itself, and Pyro stood up and took aim at the ACU. The Gatling guns silenced, and a metallic thunk sounded from a forearm barrel on the ACU. The unseen bomb exploded in the road ahead of them, causing Genevieve to swerve violently in order to miss the gaping hole that it left. Pyro crashed into Small.

“Strap me in,” cried Pyro.

Small grabbed a harness from the floorboard, and he and Lucian worked to strap Pyro as securely as possible to the seat. Pyro steadied himself as more mortars blasted holes around the speeding vehicle. He stared through the scope, trying to lock onto his target.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had just listened to me, boss,” Pyro said to Small.

“Oh, shut up, Pyro,” replied Small. “Just take that thing down.”

The targeting computer indicated that it had a solid lock. Pyro squeezed the trigger, and large clawed bullet shot out of the barrel. The barbed tips lodged into the chest cavity of the ACU. A small diamond-tipped drill bit worked through the hardened exoskeleton. A small, mechanical arm then inserted a tiny silver ball into the hole.

Just before the EMP detonated, one more thunk escaped from the ACU’s forearm. The ACU fell silently to the pavement, and sparks flew as it scraped to a halt. A blue ball of electricity then erupted in front of the SUV.

All of the lights in the vehicle faded to darkness as they drove through the electric field. The vehicle crawled to a stop. The crew sat in utter darkness for a moment before Small spoke up.

“Command, this is Fire team Alpha,” he said into his radio. “Do you copy?”

No response.

“Command, this is Fire team Alpha. Do you copy?”

Still silence.

“Command, come in. This is Fire team Alpha. Do you copy?”

Not even static sounded through the radio. Small growled.

“Great. That EMP knocked out all our equipment. We can’t contact HQ, and we’re hours from base. Not to mention, we can’t stay here long. They’ll track down the last location of that ACU. We won’t stand a chance then.”

Everyone exited the vehicle, and Gold and Pyro emptied it of any remaining weapons. Grey Wolfe hobbled on his good leg, supported by Small.

“Just couldn’t wait to blow that trap, could you, Pyro?” Wolfe muttered.

“How was I supposed to know you were going to stop and make a suicide stand against those GenReps,” justified Pyro. “And besides, I saved this whole group. We’re all lucky I set up that perimeter. We’d all be toast if it weren’t for me.”

“You didn’t have to try to blow up Wolfe, though,” said Gold.

Pyro looked at Gold with his mouth hanging open. “You’re the one that kept screaming, ‘Blow it up! Blow it up! They’re gonna kill us if you don’t.’ You big wuss.”

Gold punched Pyro in the shoulder, knocking him over onto the ground.

“Enough. We need to find some shelter,” said Small. “Dr. Morgan should be able to find us using our last location. Let’s set up a camp down the road. I’ll take the first watch.”

Forever Hollow: To Lucian's Apartment

Now that they have a plan, Lucian has to make it across a GenRep-infested city on the lookout for him with the help of only Agent Small.

Grey Wolfe, Genevieve, and Arcus tiptoed down the back hallway while Small and Lucian went into the restaurant. They passed through the dining room, around old tables with dusty tablecloths and into the kitchen. The stainless steel counters and tables had tarnished from years of disuse. They came to an old aluminum fire door near the walk-in cooler. Small checked his weapon once more before setting his hand on the crash bar.

“Ready?” he asked.

Lucian pulled his Glock out of its holster. He held the gun up by his face, gray eyes all steel. Small pressed on the release lever and inched the door open. Spurts of gunfire already echoed through the night. They crept down the quiet alley, and Small peeked around the corner. He jerked his head back and cursed under his breath.

“They’re all over. No way we can sneak around this one.”

Suddenly, several GenReps hurried down the street. A few of them ran by without noticing either of them in the alley.

“That must be Wolfe,” whispered Small. “We go in ten. Nine, eight, seven...”

Lucian gripped the pistol tightly. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Six, five, four...”

Lucian’s heart beat so rapidly that he thought it might actually break through his ribcage. His breath came in short gasps.

“Three, two...”

God be with us.

“One.”

Small dashed around the corner with Lucian in tow. They had run ten paces before the first GenRep spotted them. With an electric burst, Small dispatched two GenReps a few meters ahead of them. Three other GenReps chased them from behind, and two more started across the street.

“Left,” shouted Lucian as they reached the corner.

They rounded the corner and spotted two more GenReps on the opposite side of the street. The GenReps aimed and fired a few shots. Lucian slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk, and the bullets embedded in the brick wall behind him as he hit the pavement. Lucian fired at the two GenReps and missed. He felt a great force yank at the collar of his coat.

“This way,” Small screamed as he crashed through the front window of a large toy store. Lucian jumped in behind him amidst a shower of bullets. Small crashed through the aisles, knocking over shelves and setting various toys to life.

Two GenReps climbed in through window and stalked through the store. Glowing green eyes scanned the store, jumping at the movement of every toy and blasting them into oblivion. They moved cautiously through the deluge of motion. The first GenRep’s fedora flew off its head as an EMP round pierced its metal frame and detonated inside. The greed glow faded from its eyes as it crashed through another shelf. Before the second GenRep could react, another bullet from Small, who had hidden atop an upright shelf behind a life-sized toy IFP soldier, put it down.

“Come on,” he said.

They ran to the back of the store, and Small kicked open the door. They hurried down the back alley and down another street, ducking into a nearby park to catch their breath. Small released the empty magazine from his pistol and cast it aside, replacing a fresh clip into his Desert Eagle.

“How much further?” asked Small.

“This is the park near my place,” wheezed Lucian. “Just a few more blocks east.”

They snuck to the east entrance of the park and looked out. A group of GenReps combed the area to the north. Small took a grenade from his coat pocket and lobbed it over the group of GenReps. When the grenade exploded, the GenReps froze, and Small took off across the street, taking out three GenReps to his right with as many bullets. Lucian hurried behind.

They rounded the corner and headed east again. The snow fell heavily now, and Lucian had a difficult time seeing through the storm. Small fired at two GenReps ahead of them, but Lucian noticed a GenRep on a balcony above Small. Lucian fired several shots up at the GenRep before it slumped over.

“Come on,” yelled Lucian. “Down that alley.” They crossed the street, and Small lobbed another grenade behind them, disabling more GenReps in pursuit.

They hustled down the alleyway, and then turned to run up another. Lucian halted in the darkness and pointed up to a fire escape. They climbed the ladder and then up several levels of stairs to the window of Lucian’s apartment. Lucian tried the window but found it locked. He looked to Small.

“Ready for evac?” Small said into his radio in a low voice, loading another clip into his pistol.

“Roger that,” Gold replied. “Why have a lock on your location.”

Small looked to Lucian. “Get in, get it, and get out.”

Conflicted Hero, Sympathetic Villain: A Look at Netflix's Production of Daredevil

***WARNING: This post contains spoilers about the Daredevil TV series***

The time is gone when the straight-forward good versus evil plot line holds an audience’s interest. In our culture we don’t want a villain who’s plain evil and nothing else. Likewise, we get bored of the hero who’s completely pure and good. We require more complex characters, and the line between hero and villain has blurred to the point that sometimes it’s difficult to differentiate between the two.

Recently, I got swept up in the Daredevil series that Netflix produced. I’m not incredibly familiar with the Daredevil comic series, but I’ve always been a huge fan of comic book superheroes, so I gave it a try. I was really struck by the way Matt Murdock and Wilson Fisk play off of each other.

At the very heart of it all, Murdock and Fisk both have the same end goal in mind, to clean up Hell’s Kitchen and make it a better place. The point of conflict, however, is how each decides to go about doing it. And their perspective of what that looks like differs.

First of all, there’s Matt Murdock, blind lawyer with extremely heightened senses. While fighting crime through the legal system during the day, Murdock takes to the streets at night as a vigilante in a black mask. This is a pretty standard superhero trope, but the inner conflict within Murdock is the appealing part that adds a lot of complexity to this basic trope.

Murdock’s Catholic faith causes a lot of tension inside of him. Murdock consistently visits his priest but is not willing to admit to what he’s doing to the priest. As the series develops, however, Murdock struggles more with what he calls the Devil that’s inside of him. As Murdock gets deeper into his vigilante pursuits, he takes several beatings and narrowly escapes death, which causes him to reconsider his methods.

Murdock doesn’t want to kill anyone. From his Catholic perspective, this would be a mortal sin, which would destroy the love in his heart and turn him away from God. Even though he could be absolved of this through confession to the priest, Murdock fears that stepping across this line will take him beyond retribution. The inner conflict builds further when the people he is close to fall into more severe danger. This, combined with the fact that some of his close friends mention that they hope the masked man kills the criminals, drive Murdock toward this need to kill.

All of this comes the a head when Murdock speaks with the priest after attempting to kill Fisk. His struggles with his faith are revealed here when he talks about God’s purpose for his life. He admits that he once thought that it was God’s will that he had the accident as a kid and ended up with his special abilities. However, he questions his reason for being because he thinks that God put the Devil inside him and wonders if he is no longer a part of God’s plan. The priest’s response, which becomes a major driving force at the climactic end of the season, is a simple statement that nothing drives people to church faster than the thought that the Devil is right behind them. The priest wonders if that wasn’t God’s intention of creating the Devil in the first place and allowed him to fall from grace, so that he could become something to be feared in order to warn everyone to tread the path of righteousness. Murdock takes this sentiment and effectively uses it as his purpose in life.

Compare this conflicted, tortured soul of a hero with the villain, Wilson Fisk. Fisk, an extremely wealthy man who stays hidden in the shadows, wants the same thing that Murdock wants, to clean up Hell’s Kitchen. But unlike Murdock, Fisk has no qualms about killing someone in order to get what he wants, and he frequently tries to get his way through bullying and force. Several times throughout the season, he eliminates anyone who may pose a threat to his plans. He even goes so far as to take out his own allies who begin to question him or may give up vital information about him.

But before we jump on the “Fisk is pure evil” bandwagon, we’re given some insights early on in the season into his deeper character through conversations he has with his love, Vanessa. When he was a child, he and his mother were abused by his father, physically and verbally. After years of this, Fisk one day snaps and beats his father to death because he is abusing Fisk’s mother. Even though we wouldn’t agree with Fisk’s actions, we understand it. We sympathize we him and possibly even excuse his actions in the name of justice. Fisk has become a product of his environment. As a young adolescent, he is merely handling the situation the way he’s seen his father handle problems for years, through anger and violence.

While his actions throughout the season seem obviously wrong to us on the outside, we extend sympathy toward Fisk, understanding that this is the only way of life he’s known. It’s not only his past, though, that draws our sympathies. There is a very real sincerity about Fisk and his desire to make his city a better place. We’re given a little hint at his sincerity and even see some good in him when he meets Vanessa and opens up to her. Through these vulnerabilities that he opens up to her, and to the rest of the city eventually, we’re almost tempted to forgive the violent outbursts.

The way these two characters play off of each other can sometimes leave us to wonder who we really want to pull for. While Fisk seems to be opening up and becoming a better person, Murdock seems to fall further into his Devil with his own violent outbursts. Murdock clings to his faith while Fisk admittedly has none, even to the point of saying that if there is a God, he can’t stop Fisk from exacting his vengeance. It’s easy to sympathize with either character.

When all is said and done, there isn’t necessarily a clear-cut good guy. Each struggles with his own inner demons. Each does things he isn’t proud of. Each acts outside of the law. And yet, I wonder if the only reason that we end up on Matt Murdock’s side is because he is the title character. If Fisk were the title character, would we be more willing to justify and forgive his deeds because of that?

Just some food for thought.

Lucian and Genevieve: Since when do you carry a gun?

When last we left Lucian Pope, his normal, predictable life was interrupted when his ex-wife Genevieve showed up in trouble. Upon arriving at his apartment, Lucian soon finds himself on the wanted terrorist list alongside Genevieve.

The following scene is the final one of the first chapter of Forever Hollow. Lucian is finally throw in the midst of the action, like the epic heroes he idolizes. However, Lucian quickly finds out that being a hero isn't everything it's romanticized to be.

Here we see a timid, inexperienced Lucian juxtaposed with the more confident, but still very much afraid, Genevieve. The two of them have such a fun chemistry throughout the novel.

“What in the hell is happening?” Lucian said.

“I don’t know, Luc. This is how they work.”

Genevieve led Lucian quickly from the building. Turning to her right, she froze immediately like a gazelle spotting a hungry lion. Lucian saw the trench coat at the end of the block walking toward them. They were already walking in the opposite direction when the trench coat noticed Genevieve.

She pulled Lucian around the corner and into the first two men who had looked into the pizzeria earlier. They both reached into their coats, but Genevieve threw a shoulder into one of the men, knocking him into the other.

“Run!” she screamed as she yanked Lucian into the street.

They darted across the street, narrowly dodging a car as it sped by. They ducked into an alley between an old post office and small office building. Two bricks exploded as bullets impacted. The third man stood at the corner across the street opening fire on Lucian and Genevieve.

They ran around another corner and into a brick wall that towered over them. Genevieve looked around frantically. A trash incinerator, some discarded boxes, and an out-of-order computer terminal. She spotted a fire escape ladder on the outer wall of the office building and pulled it down.

“Up here, quickly,” she commanded.

They climbed to the third floor before taking a break. Bullets chased them as the three men appeared around the corner. Genevieve pulled a micropistol out of her handbag. She put two bullets through the window and cleared out the rest of the glass. Lucian stared wide-eyed.

“Since when do you carry a gun?”

“Since people started trying to kill me,” she said. “Split up. You go through here. I’ll head up to the roof. Meet me at our spot.” She thrust the micropistol in his hand and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Good luck.”

She hurried up the ladder. Lucian looked down and saw the three men climbing the fire escape ladder. He ducked through the window and scanned the small office space for an exit as he tiptoed past a cubicle.

He stumbled through the darkness and found the entrance. As he opened the door, he heard two sounds: the crackling of glass under heavy footsteps and the siren of an alarm. Puffs of air spat, and bullets pockmarked the wall around the door. Lucian jumped and ducked, firing high-pitched shots wildly through the room. Sparks flew from the lights in the ceiling as the bullets went astray.

Lucian rushed through the doorway and down the hall. He came to the elevator and had to choose: elevator or stairwell? Think, Lucian, think. After jamming the up button for the elevator, he began to chew on a knuckle. He checked the hallway again. No sign of the man.

The soft electric bell dinged, and the door slid open. Lucian hurried in and punched the button for the top floor. As the elevator door closed, he squeezed back through and shot across the hall through the double doors to the stairwell. He rushed down two flights of stairs, pausing between the first and second floor.

As he caught his breath, he listened for his pursuer. Nothing. He crept down the stairs like a whisper. He exited into the foyer of the building and checked the area. Still clear. He listened to the machines buzz and hum as they kept their electronic eyes on him. Tucking his chin and hunching his shoulders, he edged toward the exit.

He had almost made it to the front door when the chime of the elevator echoed through his head. Out stepped the trench coat. Lucian saw the flicker in the man’s green eyes before training the pistol on Lucian. Panicked, Lucian popped off a round from his micropistol. The man’s head jerked backwards, and he fell onto his back. The stray shots from the trench coat shattered the glass doors behind Lucian.

Lucian scrambled through the door and sprinted down the sidewalk, nearly tackling an elderly woman. He clumsily pirouetted around the woman and jetted across the street and down another sidewalk. Sleet pelted him as he ran for what seemed like hours before looking back or slowing down. He felt lightning coursing through his veins, and droplets of ice seemed to cling to the back of his neck.

The street dead-ended into another. Lucian turned right and then another quick left across the street. He continued down the street westward until he crossed a wide avenue into a darkened park.

Work in Progress: Forever Hollow

Here's an excerpt from my science fiction novel, Forever Hollow. The story follows Lucian Pope, a man who doesn't understand society's total reliance upon technology. His feelings that humanity has become nothing more than robotic entities are more true than he realizes when his ex-wife, Genevieve, appears and Lucian learns the truth that Brightwater is inhabited by cyborgs disguised as humans. In order maintain control over humanity, the cyborgs find ways of ridding the city of those who think and question too much. Below is the opening scene to the novel.

“Lies!” shouted a man with narrow, brown eyes. “I’m telling you, they’re all lies! I didn’t do anything wrong. They contacted me, and I refused to help them.”

The young man’s muscles bulged through his dark blue button-up shirt in his attempt to fight against the two silent agents dragging him through the Digitech office. Most of the workers worked quietly, eyes glued to the crystal screens in front of them and not on the commotion in the office. No one said a word as the men in tan trench coats lugged the young man toward the elevator. He continued to call for help, but nobody so much as turned in his direction.

Nobody save Lucian Pope.

Lucian had watched the young man’s predicament with measured interest. Alexander Houston. Hard worker. Always on time with his assignments. Lucian wondered what Alexander had done wrong to warrant a submission of indictment to the ministry from someone. Lucian had never thought of Alexander as a troublemaker. Of course, many people change masks from work to home. Lucian knew that well enough.

He had heard the stories. “They” usually came in the middle of the night or found you in a dark alley by yourself. Here today, gone tonight. No questions asked. No tears shed. Your desk emptied and reset as if you never existed.

These guys aren’t “them” though, Lucian thought. Or are they?

The two men had flashed a pair of ID badges when they had first approached the secretary’s desk. They never said a word. They never had to. The Federation Investigators never had to explain themselves. They came in and took what they needed and left without a word.

Something just doesn’t add up.

The thought plagued Lucian for the rest of the afternoon as he finished the data file he had worked on the past few days. His fingers flew over the projected image of a keyboard on his cubicle desk. The small rectangle of crystal prompted him to save. After tapping “OK”, he slipped into his leather jacket and headed to the elevator. His desk lamp and computer screen powered down when he moved out of the desk’s sensory range. Glancing at his watch, he thought that he could make it to the antique shop and browse around a bit before it closed. Seventy floors later, Lucian walked into the lobby area of the Digitech building.

Outside, Lucian saw Charlie, a co-worker of his, standing out on the sidewalk staring blankly. Lucian walked up to him and waved a hand in front of Charlie’s face.

“Charlie? Hey, Charlie. You okay?”

The little plump man jumped as if from a daze. He blinked a few times, and his brown eyes seemed refocus. He looked at Lucian through a pair of wide-framed glasses and smiled broadly.

“Lucian! Hey, it’s great to see you,” Charlie beamed. “How have you been?”

Lucian’s brow wrinkled. “Charlie. We just saw each other a few minutes ago.” A puzzled look crossed Charlie’s face. “We just left work, Charlie. Look, there’s the door to our building right there.”

Charlie stared at the Digitech sign as though seeing it for the first time. He took off his glasses and tapped on the lenses a few times. Images flickered in the lenses as Charlie replaced glasses on his nose. Charlie gasped before looking back at Lucian.

“Lucian! Hey! Sorry, my glasses haven’t been working properly lately. I need to take them in and get the lenses replaced, but who can really find their way around for the few days it takes them to fix these things, am I right?”

Lucian gave Charlie and noncommittal grunt.

“I mean, I just stepped outside a minute ago and completely forget where I was going. Strange, huh?”

“Yeah, strange,” Lucian said vaguely.

“Ah,” said Charlie with an energetic nod. “I was going home.” Lucian could see the transparent map in Charlie’s glasses with a highlighted path. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Lucian.”

“Right,” said Lucian. “See you.”

Lucian stood on the sidewalk a few more minutes looking around. Most of the people who walked by wore glasses similar to Charlie’s. Their eyes never seemed to look past the frames to the rest of their surroundings. Occasionally, someone would stop mid-stride, tap on their lenses, and then continue on their way. Lucian shook his head and walked down the sidewalk toward the old antique shop.

Work in Progress: Morrigan ni Feich

I've been working on a new science fiction project. Essentially, the premise of the story centers around the idea of cybernetic attachments to humans. What was initially medical technology became fashion, and people started replacing their body with cybernetic enhancements. Two main factions grew out of this: the cybernetically enhanced human, who became known as the Exelixi, and the purists who believed that the human body shouldn't be tampered with.

I'm currently writing a series of short stories on the backgrounds of the characters in the main story. Here's a little excerpt, forgive the errors:

The front doors to the Feich house burst open, and Morrigan ni Feich stumbled out, down the brick steps, and paused, her breaths coming in quick, deep succession. Her blue eyes darted about under hooded eyes, searching for cover. The pre-adolescent girl settled on the thick hedge near the front porch and disappeared inside. She tried to steady her breathing, but her eyes betrayed the slight panic within.

A young man appeared in the still-open doorway. He stepped out onto the flagstone porch and paused between the Doric columns and scanned the front yard.

“So it’s hide-and-seek now, is it, Morrigan?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Morrigan watched as the blond-haired boy slowly descended the steps.

“Clever to run and hide when you’re outmatched,” he said. “But how long can you hold out?” He stepped past Morrigan’s hiding spot. “Or are you waiting for the perfect time to ambush me?”

Morrigan lost sight of the boy. She knew that maneuvering for a better view would give away her position, but losing sight of her enemy put her at a different kind of disadvantage. She needed a new plan of attack and quickly. As she processed the situation, eliminating bad ideas and formulating a plan, the young boy’s face filled her view, a sinister grin plastered across his face.

“Found you,” he sang and grabbed a handful of black braids.

The boy yanked Morrigan from the precisely trimmed hedges and threw her to the ground. Morrigan rolled across her shoulders and sprang back to her feet. She settled into a fighting stance, her panic now replaced with cool determination. The young boy sneered.

“So now you want to fight back, huh? Fine. I’ll play that game.”

He raised his fists in a similar fighting stance and attacked. He stepped in and threw a punch, which Morrigan blocked with an outward block and threw a punch of her own. The boy stepped out of the way and struck her with a back kick to the abdomen. Morrigan grunted as her breath left her. She retreated a few steps and regained her breath and composure.

She stepped in with a roundhouse kick, which the boy ducked under, and followed with a back spin kick that grazed his nose. She spun further and threw up knee up, launching her into the air. She let loose a powerful spin kick in the air that caused the boy’s wavy hair dance as he barely managed to duck underneath.

Morrigan threw another punch, which the boy blocked with an inside forearm block. He wrapped his arm around her extended arm and stepped in close. With a quick pop of his hips, he threw Morrigan over him and onto the ground.  With his arm still wrapped around hers, he struck her on the shoulder with the heel of his free hand and locked his other hand onto his wrist, barring her arm. He placed one knee on her ribs and the other on her cheek bone before applying pressure on her arm with his hips.

Morrigan grunted loudly as her face ground into grass and soil.

“You’re weak, Morrigan,” the boy said through strained teeth.

“It’s… not… over,” Morrigan grunted.

She threw her legs up, trying to wrap around the boy’s neck, but she couldn’t catch his head with her feet. She continued to struggle with several more attempts, but the boy applied more pressure to her arm. She felt as though her shoulder and elbow would dislocate any moment, and her vision began to darken around the edges. With her free hand, Morrigan pounded the ground with an open palm and finally gave in.

The young boy released his hold of her and rolled over onto his back.

“You’re still not strong enough,” he said through heavy breaths.

“I’m only twelve, Harrison,” Morrigan argued, massaging her shoulder.

“True, but you don’t listen to everything teacher says. Like your hair for one,” he said tugging on one of her braids.

“I happen to like my braids,” she snatched her braid from Harrison’s grip. “It makes me feel like less of a boy when I have to do all of this fighting.”

“But it makes you an easier target.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You sound just like my parents.”

“They’re just trying to look out for their only child. You can’t be too careful around here.”

Morrigan sighed. “I know.”

She stared up at the steel girders and feet-thick glass that were barely discernible so high up in the sky. Dark clouds churned outside the dome. It had always been like that, at least as far back as Morrigan remembered.

“One day,” Morrigan thought aloud. “Maybe one day we won’t have to live like this. Maybe one day we’ll be treated better.”

Harrison laughed. “And we don’t even have it that bad. We live on the good side of Southampton. We only have to live with dirty looks and the occasional slur. Across town, though, I’ve heard the Nobles can get pretty rough.”

“Nobles,” Morrigan scoffed. “They’re no more than a bunch of mechanical—“

Screeching tires interrupted Morrigan. She and Harrison looked up as two car doors slammed. Her parents both walked with purpose toward them.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Feich,” Harrison said, smiling at them. “How are you today?”

“Hello, Harrison,” Morrigan’s father, Blayne, said tersely. “Listen, uh, Harrison. We have some things to take care of. You should probably head on home.”

“Is everything okay?” Morrigan asked.

A quick glance from Blayne to his wife answered her question.

“We have to take care of a few things, sweetheart,” Blayne said, helping Morrigan to her feet. Her led her to the house, leaving Harrison and Mavis behind.

“Harrison,” Mavis began. “You know we really appreciate you looking after Morrigan.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harrison raised to his feet.

Mavis glanced around nervously. “Well, Harrison…” She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you.”

“What’s going on, Mrs. Feich?”

“Nothing, dear,” she replied quickly. “Just run on home. We have some family business.”

“Okay.” Harrison looked on curiously as Mavis hurried into the house.

Minor Characters Who Steal the Show

One of my favorite movies of all time is The Last Samurai starring Tom Cruise. With my love for Asian culture, it's no surprise that I enjoy it so much. In a recent viewing of the movie, one character's arc really struck me, and I had never thought much about him. Nathan Algren, played by Cruise, is captured by the band of rebel samurai he has been hired to get rid of and has to spend the winter in the samurai village. During this time, he is guarded by an older samurai, whom Algren simply calls "Bob", who follows him around wherever he goes to make sure he doesn't do anything. Bob is really a minor character who is only featured in a few scenes. However, there is a scene toward the end in which Bob plays a significant and touching role.

Without giving away too much of a spoiler for anyone who hasn't seen the movie, here's what happens:

In the middle of the huge battle against the larger Civil War-style army, one Japanese soldier aims his rifle at Algren, ready to fire. Bob, who is in the midst of his own struggle, notices and runs to Algren's aid. He jumps in front of Algren as the soldier fires and takes the fatal shot, saving Algren's life.

Now, there are a lot of touching death scenes in literature and film, and there are more featured in this film, but I wondered why this particular character's death moved me. Minor characters are just that, minor. So how did this character become so significant in just a few scenes?

It's all about the characterization, one of the most important elements of every great story. I've always heard about the importance of writing good characters, and it's true. When I look at all my favorite stories, they all contain characters that I've fallen in love with in one way or another. You can't have a good story without interesting, deeply developed characters.

It doesn't always have to be the main character though. Having a strong supporting cast is just as important as having strong primary characters. Think about how much a character like R2-D2 or Chewbacca adds to Star Wars. Or Merry and Pippin in the Lord of the Rings series. Effective minor characters play significant roles in their brief time on screen or on page.

The trouble with minor characters is that you can't overuse them. If Chewy shows up in every scene and growls, we'd get tired of seeing him. He becomes more of a major character at that point and needs more depth to his character. So, as a writer, you have a very limited amount of space to do this in your story. By their nature, minor characters only show up every once in a while, so you have to do an extremely good job of highlighting the two or three character qualities that make that character stand out.

Take Bob for example.

Bob is quiet and incredibly loyal. Every time Bob enters the scene we are reminded of his loyalty in some way--to his master, to his lifestyle, and to his comrades. Even a former prisoner turned comrade-in-arms earns his loyalty. Although subtle, his character is clearly shown each time he is on screen. By the time his death scene comes around, we've become so wrapped up in his loyalty, whether consciously or not, that his sacrifice strikes a chord deep inside us. And we couldn't have gotten there without the few scenes that lead us to that place.

Build your minor characters up subtly but profoundly. Their big moment at the end shouldn't be the first time we see that come out of them. I think of Neville Longbottom in the Harry Potter series. In the first several books, Neville is barely a blip on the radar, However, his courage and desire to become better are highlighted nearly every time we see him. Before long, and without us realizing it, Neville has become quite the wizard we never thought he could be, and then he gets his big moment in the final book with the Sword of Griffindor.

One note: I've noticed that authors tend use minor characters for comic relief. There's certainly nothing wrong with this, but don't feel the need to fall into that pattern. Comic relief can come from anywhere. Besides, good minor characters who are used for comic relief have more to them than simply being funny. Good minor character can so much more.

I have a character in a series I wrote who originally started out as a minor character for one single scene to help move along the plot. As I continued to write, however, he kept showing up in scenes and eventually became a fairly integral part of the plot by the third book. By the end of the series, had become almost as important as a lot of my major characters.

All said, minor characters can, and should, play significant roles in your stories. Don't just create throwaway characters with no depth. Take the time to give them some. Make them just as lovable and sympathetic as your major characters. Give them quirks and habits. The extra depth will go a long way in your story. You never know what can end up happening with them.