Barry Lyga's Blog: The BLog, page 2

Many years ago, I wrote a middle grade trilogy called Archvillain . It was a loving send-up of comic book super-heroes, featuring Kyle Camden, a kid who receives super-powers one day and decides that he will use them not to help people, but rather to play pranks and to bedevil Mighty Mike, the local super-hero.

I had mapped out many, many books in the series, but when I turned in the third book (which ended on a shocker!), my editor gently informed me that sales hadn’t been great, and so the series would end with the third book…and maybe I’d like to change that cliffhanger-y ending into something more, well, final?

Well, sure. I did so. But man — I loved that original ending!

I recently came across it while reorganizing some files on my computer, so here is the original ending to Archvillain #3: Yesterday Again, complete with the “Next!” blurb I wrote at the time.

After his parents had gone to sleep and after Lefty was satiated with an abundance of yogurt drops and chunks of dried pineapple, Kyle lay awake in bed, unable to drift off. Too much had happened to him. Too much to think about. And with no more super-brain to process all of that information, he was having to do it like normal people did — one bit at a time.

There was still, of course, the lingering question of who William Lundergaard really was. And what he was up to. But Kyle figured he could do a little research and then anonymously leave some information at the sheriff’s office. Between Sheriff Monroe and Mighty Mike, they could figure out what was going on.

Well, Kyle reasoned with a grin, Monroe would figure it out and Mike would go do something about it.

The other thing that bothered him was that Lundergaard had recognized him back in 1987. Had even said that Kyle would need his super-powers at age fourteen. What did that mean?

He’s the bad guy. Bad guys lie all the time.

Yeah. That had to be it.

But he still couldn’t sleep.

So he rolled out of bed, ignoring Lefty, who suddenly stirred and became very active now that Kyle was up and about. Kyle turned on his computer. He had already transferred the contents of his videotape to his hard drive, but he hadn’t watched it yet. Why not do it now?

First, there was static. Then, framed by dry, dying corn stalks, Kyle could make out a chunk of the Bouring Middle School football field.

As Kyle watched, he saw himself walk into frame.

A few moments later, there was a flash of light from off-screen, and Kyle watched himself hold up an arm against it…and then pass out.

I didn’t get Mighty Mike in frame after all. Oh, well. It doesn’t matter any more.

Kyle reached out to turn off the video, but just then Mighty Mike walked into the scene, still glowing from the plasma storm.

Oh, cool!

A slow, wicked grin spread over Mike’s face as he leaned in close…

Kyle watched. Watched Mike slowly approach his own unconscious body. Had Mike done something while Kyle was out cold? Something Kyle didn’t remember?

The camera had good placement; he could see everything as Mighty Mike crouched down near Kyle’s prone form. Kyle held his breath. What had happened? What was he about to see?

Mike leaned in close. Closer. His lips at Kyle’s ear.

His lips moved.

He said something to me that night! He said something! What, though?

The microphone on the camera wasn’t good enough to pick up what was said. It was brief, whatever it was. It took only a few seconds and then — as Mike walked away — the video ended.

Kyle rewound and watched again: Mike approached. Leaned in. Spoke. Walked away.

Again: Approach. Lean. Speak. Leave.

He zoomed in as much as he could.

He watched those seconds over and over again, staring at Mike’s lips for what seemed to be hours.

Eventually, he picked out four syllables.

Three words.

Just three words before Mike walked away.

Three words that made the hair on Kyle’s neck stand on end. Three words that made his skin crawl with absolute terror.

The first two words: “It worked.”

It worked.

And then the last word:

“Master.”

Next in [ARCHVILLAIN logo]:

Kyle finally has proof that Mighty Mike is up to something sinister in Bouring…but he has no idea what! Worse yet, it appears that Kyle himself is somehow connected, but he has no idea how or why. Even worse than that, he has no super-powers, his super-intellect is gone, and all of his gadgets are broken.

What is Mighty Mike up to? And who can possibly stop him now?

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I love videogames, but I don’t get to play as often as I’d like. As a result, it hasn’t been worth my while to buy a console since the days of the Xbox 360 (WHICH I STILL HAVE!!!).

But recently, I stumbled upon OneCast. This is an app that you can install on your Mac, iPhone, iPad, or — most crucially — your AppleTV. It lets you stream games from your (more modern than the 360) Xbox…OR, best of all, direct from the Xbox Cloud Gaming service!

Yes, that’s right — this little app basically turns your AppleTV into a front-end for Microsoft’s cloud gaming platform. Meaning you can play new games without the need for a console. All you need is your AppleTV, the app, and a controller. (Well, and a subscription to Xbox Cloud, of course!)

I. Am. In. Love. With this app!!!

For a mere fifteen bucks, I have access to tons of games I’d never be able to play otherwise. When I know I’ll have some time to game, I pony up for an Xbox subscription, then cancel when I’m done. It’s a ton of value and convenient as hell.

Right now I’m playing the remastered version of Oblivion. My Khajit thief already owns his own castle (I got stupid lucky early in the game!) and basically is more interested in kitting it out than in, you know, saving the world.

Anyway: OneCast. Check it out if you’re in a situation like mine, where you have more Apple gear than common sense and no desire to buy a console.

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Whenever I need to remind myself of the absolute nadir of human morality and the apex of human depravity, I think of Fred and Rosemary West. They weren’t the model for Billy and Janice Dent, but they could have been. They were an English husband/wife murdering-and-torturing duo who turn even my considerably reinforced stomach.

Today we’re going to talk about Rose.

As most of you know, there aren’t a lot of women serial killers, and most of the ones we know about didn’t behave similarly to their male counterparts. Men tend to lean into brutality, domination, and cruelty, whereas female serial killers are often subtle, usually choosing poison as their weapon of choice. They are “quiet killers,” who aren’t interested in harming or debasing their victims, just eliminating them.

Rose West was different. I won’t subject you to specifics here — they are readily available online, of course — but suffice it to say, Mrs. West was just as fond of violence, rape, and general assault as her male equivalents. She enjoyed torturing her victims in a variety of ways, many of which we typically associate with men.

She murdered her stepdaughter while Fred was in prison for theft. He must not have minded because when he got out, the two of them embarked on a truly grotesque, decades-long series of assaults and murders that only ended when they were arrested in the early nineties. Fred committed suicide while in prison. Rose is still alive in an English prison.

For some reason, this bit from Rose’s Wikipedia page really gets to me:

Rose grew up into a moody teenager, prone to daydreaming….

I mean….that could describe a lot of us, right? And yet most of us don’t go on years-long torture-and-murder sprees.

If you want more information on Rosemary West, I suggest you start with her Wikipedia page and go from there if you truly need more.

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It’s happening, y’all! Bridekiller, the first chapter in the next phase of the life of Jasper Dent, is real! If you’ve been reading my newsletter, you’ve already seen some pieces of the story, but now I’m here to tell you that it’s done — bar some revising — and it’s headed your way!

Some of you may recall that I hinted that the “adult Jazz” series might be forthcoming as a self-published endeavor. It’s actually tricky, it turns out, to convince publishers to publish an adult series based on a YA series! So, yeah, I was going to self-publish it in order to circumvent that problem and get the story to you.

But then a publisher stepped in and stepped up! I will have more details soon, but in the meantime, rest easy: Jasper is still alive and kicking, and soon his tale will continue!

Speaking of his tale… I’m happy to report that people are still finding Before the Hunt and enjoying it. Over on Goodreads, Barbara gave the anthology five stars and devoured the entire series, saying in part:

I enjoyed these books so much. My only regret is the fact that I finished reading them.

Thanks, Barbara! If you’ve enjoyed Before the Hunt, consider dropping a review on Goodreads, Amazon, etc. And if you haven’t picked up your copy yet, here are some convenient links for ya:

➡️ Allstora
➡️ Amazon | Kindle
➡️ Barnes & Noble
➡️ Bookshop.org
➡️ Kobo

In addition to the news about Bridekiller, I’ve also been making the interview rounds again. Over on Shelf Awareness, I spoke with Siân Gaetano about Before the Hunt.

And I guested on the Geek Freaks podcast, where I talked about writing in general and comic book/super-hero stuff in specific. Be sure to check it out! (This link will take you right to the beginning of my segment.)

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I had a terrific time chatting with Frank on the Geek Freaks podcast recently! We talked Thanos, The Flash, and more, including the origins of Free Comic Book Day.

Be sure to check it out! This link will take you right to the beginning of my segment, and there’s a little clip embedded below.

I recently stumbled upon a Reddit thread where people were discussing what made them give up on certain book series. One person fulminated about a series in which the author had the temerity to end a book on a cliffhanger. This was a bridge too far. 1 This particular reader found it offensive and manipulative, a transparently crass mercantile ploy to force readers to buy the next book. And decided not to fall for it, thereby opting out of the series from then on.

I get it. I have a small measure of sympathy for this person. But given that I famously ended the second book in the I Hunt Killers trilogy with three (or was it four? Let’s call it four to be safe) cliffhangers, I also took it a little personally.

Let’s talk about cliffhangers for a moment, shall we?

On their most basic level, sure, cliffhangers exist to get you to come back for more. They are pretty much synonymous with the old movie serials, which would end each episode on a dastardly moment of “How the hell will they get out of this?” so that people would return to the theater the following week and pony up for a ticket for the next installment.

I think, though, that as with so many elements of art, the devil is in the details. A cliffhanger can be a grossly transparent beggar’s hand, or it can be an important part of the story. The very best transcend mere “story element” status and become, in my opinion, a gift to the audience.

Let me explain. To do so, I’m going to take you back thirty-something years. A lot of you either weren’t alive then or were trundling around in diapers, but that’s OK — you don’t need to have been alive to get the point of this story.

In 1991, Young Barry was obsessed with the TV show Twin Peaks. If you’ve heard of it, great. If you’ve seen it, better. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, it doesn’t matter — follow along.

(And, uh, spoilers for season 2 of Twin Peaks, y’all…)

The central conceit of Twin Peaks is that a malevolent possessive spirit named BOB (all caps!) has been using the bodies of others to murder young women in horrible fashion. FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper is uniquely suited to hunt down BOB, and has been in the town of Twin Peaks, Washington looking for the killer.

In the final episode of the second season, Cooper does the impossible and rescues BOB’s next victim before she can fall prey to BOB’s horrific depredations. But in the closing moments of the episode, we are shocked to learn that there is a price to pay for Cooper’s victory: Now he is possessed by BOB! The one man alive who can stop BOB is now utterly in BOB’s thrall!

How’s Annie?

That was the end of the second season.

And then it was announced that the show would not be coming back for a third. 2

A lot of people were pissed. In fact, I think that much of our cultural distaste for cliffhangers can be traced back to that second season finale and the shock that this was the how story would end.

I was never angry, though. Not at the moment I watched that finale, and not for the next twenty-three years of my life, at which point season three was announced.

Because I saw that cliffhanger as a gift.

From 1991 through to 2014, I had no way to know that there would eventually be a third season. And for those 23 years, I thought about Twin Peaks and the ending of the story and its implications.

I spent most of my adult life contemplating that show and what that ending could mean. Not in an anxious or perturbed way, mind you. But rather in a thoughtful, excited, and imaginative way. Twin Peaks opened up a universe of possibilities and potentialities for me, giving me multiple storylines and notions to consider and play with over more then two decades.

Not for an instant was I upset about that cliffhanger! Not for an instant did I think, Now I’ll never know how it ends! Instead, Twin Peaks became my Roman Empire (long before the viral tweet) and I thought about it almost every day. It was comfort and intellectual stimulation and creative catnip all in one.

Like I said: a gift. Something wonderful to think about, in a way that would not have obtained if that second season had had a definitive ending.

And though it may seem the height of hubris, I like to think that those four cliffhangers at the end of Game were my gift to my readers. Something for them to consider, to turn over in their minds, to play with and to (sorry) game out for the time between books.3

I submit to you that if a cliffhanger gets you to buy the next book, then you weren’t manipulated — you were hooked! No cliffhanger, no matter how dastardly and conniving, can make you care about characters you hitherto had had no interest in. No cliffhanger, no matter how thrilling and breathtaking, can make you yearn for the resolution of a plot you’d been bored by.

If you happen to be watching or reading a story and it ends on a cliffhanger and your immediate reaction is a reflexive Ick!, I’d encourage you to take a moment. Step back. Think about it. Are you really upset by the cliffhanger itself, or have you been conditioned by the weight of culture to disregard it?

Some stories don’t earn their cliffhangers, true. I’m not saying every cliffhanger is worthy or worthwhile.

But some of them are gifts, if you’re willing to accept them.

When I wrote my Flash series, I was in the enviable position of being tied to the TV show, but not beholden to it. My series was set in an alternate timeline in which Barry never went back in time at the end of Season 2 to create Flashpoint. Which meant that I didn’t have to hew to the show’s continuity.

One thing this meant was that I could use the character of H.R. Wells, who’d been killed in Season 3 on the show in a sequence of events that never happened in my own personal “Barryverse.” I liked H.R., so this seemed pretty cool to me, and I wrote a couple of scenes with him in Green Arrow’s Perfect Shot.

And then the showrunners asked me not to use H.R. I’m not sure why, but they made so few demands of me and let me get away with so much that it seemed pointless to fight this very minor request. I pulled H.R. from the book, with the exception of a quick flashback.

Here is an early scene from Green Arrow’s Perfect Shot as originally written, with H.R. front and center. I think H.R.’s reflection/comment at the end is some very fine superhero universe writing!

“What’s up, buttercups?” a new voice said just then. Coming through the doorway was H.R. Wells, the Earth 19 version of Harrison Wells, who’d been with the team for a couple of years now. As always, he clutched in one hand a large mug of coffee, this one with the words PAPA’S TREASURE emblazoned on it. Earth 19 had no coffee; H.R. was sort of addicted.

“Help me move her,” Barry said. After a split second’s hesitation, H.R. put down his mug on the control board and helped Barry lift and carry Madame Xanadu into the medical bay, then lay her gently on a bed. She still wasn’t asleep, but she was much more calm.

“Is it Mardi Gras already?” H.R. asked, taking in Madame Xanadu’s brocaded skirt and brightly patterned head scarf.

“No,” Barry told him as they went back into the Cortex. “She just…has flair.”

“Flamboyance!” H.R. crowed, snatching up his mug and taking a drink. “I appreciate it. We could use some more color around here.”

“The super-hero costumes aren’t enough?” Iris asked drily.

Before H.R. could respond, Caitlin interjected. “I’m going to go set her up on a monitor and run some more tests,” she said, and vanished into the medical bay.

“Where’s Cisco?” Barry asked Iris. He couldn’t forget that Madame Xanadu had — while talking and breathing — said that she herself was already dead. Sounded like delusion, yes, but in Barry’s world it could also be time travel, dimension-hopping, or just plain weird science. And when it came to weird science, Cisco was his first call.

“Downstairs,” Iris said. “Still…communing.” Her face clouded over as she said it. Barry knew why.

“None of it is about us,” he told her, taking her hands. “None of it is your fault—”

“Mis amigos!” Cisco strolled into the Cortex. His hair, long and lustrous, was tied back in a ponytail, a look that made his face seem more mature somehow. “How goes it?”

“You tell us,” Barry replied. “What’s up in TV land?”

A year or so ago, Cisco had stumbled upon a shocking and existentially fraught secret — there was another timeline, nearly identical to their own.

It wasn’t a parallel Earth — it was an entire timeline with a multiverse of its own, a slightly twisted mirror image of their reality, “an identical twin with a different haircut,” as Joe had once described it. It was so big a discovery that they’d had to invent some new terminology. After much debate, Cisco (of course) came up with “transmultiversal version,” which they often just shortened to “TV” for convenience’s sake.

There were as many similarities between their world and the TV world as there were differences. In each reality, there’d been an invasion of super-Nazis from Earth-X that had been turned back. In each reality, Barry and Iris had wed, as had their friends Oliver and Felicity. They’d fought similar villains, though at different times and in different ways.

But the biggest difference was that TV-Barry’s creation and negation of Flashpoint had had a ripple effect. Cisco’s brother Dante was dead “over there.” Caitlin had a Killer Frost split personality. H.R. had sacrificed his life to save Iris. And so on.

Every few months, the two Ciscos used their vibe powers to make contact with each other and catch each other up on happenings in the different timelines. It was so far the only way they’d discovered to communicate between the two realities.

“Any news on my doppelgänger?” H.R. asked hopefully.

Cisco’s good mood melted away. “Sorry, buddy. Nothing. Still dead.”

H.R. nodded thoughtfully and ambled away from the Cortex, muttering, “Sometimes it doesn’t stick,” as he went.

A pall hung over the Cortex. The TV H.R.’s death hit Iris particularly hard, since it had been to protect her. Barry kept reminding her that what happened in the other timeline didn’t impact them here in theirs…and that the opposite was true. Nothing she had done here had caused the other H.R.’s death.

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Siân Gaetano of Shelf Awareness interviewed me about Before the Hunt. We discussed what it was like returning to the world of I Hunt Killers after so long, how it feels to tell adult stories in that mileau, the influence of Joe Haldeman on the anthology, and more, including this…

I spent some time sitting with it wondering if I was willing to put it out in the world with my name on it. Luckily, I have zero sense of self-preservation, so I said sure.

Check out the entire interview!

If there’s one thing Hollywood loves more than itself, it’s making fun of itself. And Seth Rogen has now elevated that notion to its ineffable quintessence, with The Studio, a gloriously profane and hilarious AppleTV+ show about a newly minted studio head who just wants to make some good movies, but keeps tripping over his own dick. Along the way, the show manages to illustrate the sheer glory of well-made film, even as it ruthlessly mocks the people and the process of getting there. If you have AppleTV+, check it out. If you don’t, consider signing up for a month to binge The Studio — you won’t regret it.

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If you know me at all, you know that I love Bruce Springsteen. And more than Bruce Springsteen, I love previously unreleased Bruce Springsteen music.

So I am psyched at the incipient release of Tracks II: The Lost Albums, the Boss’s second box set of rare tracks, outtakes, and unreleased goodies from his long, storied career. Three songs have been released so far as teasers, and while I dig them all, “Blind Spot” in particular really grooves for me. It feels ready-made to play over the somber final moments of a prestige drama. Get on that, will you, Hollywood?

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