So much for updating at the very least monthly from now on...

This week-end, I shall surface and fill you all in. I promise.

Like many geeks, what I do every day at work also involves a lot of the same skills as my hobbies I do for fun. Which means after a long day writing raw HTML code, re-drawing client logos in Illustrator, and creating proofs of web designs in PhotoShop to send to clients, I unwind by... well... creating wallpaper and icons and headers, re-creating vector versions of logos, and writing HTML code. (Yes, I am aware of the irony.)

Anyway, one of the geeky things about being a web designer is you go through life consciously or unconsciously identifying fonts, and identifying what has been altered in existing typefaces to create custom logos. And lately, I've been driven crackjack insane by the inconsistent Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles logos.

Some of this has to do with who has which assets. Now, me, if I'm in charge of the Terminator franchise as a brand, I'm making sure there is ONE consistent piece of vector art per property. The Terminator, T2, T3, SCC, T4, the video games, theme park attraction, etc. That art goes out from a central source, and has extensive branding guidelines that go along with it—along with the RGB and Pantone names for the colours, a corporate supplied 3-d metal-skinned version, one for dark backgrounds, one for light, etc. And they are unchanging, and immutable, and set in goddam stone. Particularly when it comes to typefaces. Because the different As and Rs and Ms? Are going to drive me MAD.

However, I am not in charge of the Terminator brand. I am but a lowly fangirl, with a yen to design wallpaper to make her computers at work and home look pretty and advertise to the planet her new obsession.

So, being a geek and slightly obsessive (stop laughing!) I've been playing with typefaces all week, trying to recreate the logo used in the main title sequence.



The closest commercial typeface to the typeface being used in nearly all the various versions of the SCC logos is Mark Simonson's Changeling (which is the only one out there to contain all 3 different types of As and both Ms). But that typeface was created by taking a 1970s font called "China" and modifying it to match the original 1984 The Terminator main title sequence built by Pac Title. I'm not sure if it was a commission, or the foundry creator is just a geek. Either way, I don't think there can be any other explanation. TLai Enterprise's Steelwolf Medium is another modified version of China specifically made to recreate the Terminator titles, but it's blocky. It's also been pirated as "Terminator 2" and is one of the three fonts you most often find on free font sites (the others being Terminator and Terminator Real).

However all the fonts have slight differences, most noticeably in the width of the letters, spacing, font weight, the shape of the M and the R, and which "A" they use and where.

Anyway, so far, this is what I've got:





It's still not right, mind you—I had to alter the shape of the Rs manually in illustrator, and the subhead is the wrong weight. But Changeling Bold is too blocky, and Changeling Regular is too spindly. I ended up adding a 1px stroke around the outlined letters, and then tweaking it to the right width, but that's inefficient. I need to figure out what semibold face they're using that I can't find commercially available. I think it's much more likely that there is a Pac Titles created version of China specifically for the Terminator franchise that isn't commercially available to little web designers like me.

But it's a start. And I've still no idea what I plan to do with it, other than more fan-made wallpapers and maybe some poster designs for fun, to blow off steam. But I am addicted to the challenge of re-creating logos, and my soul hungers for nice clean vector art to play with.

So this blog post actually should have been made last month, but I never got around to it. So pretend you are reading this in February, okay?

The thing about spending over an hour in a taxi with someone, is that you end up having conversations. And aside from the fact that it took us ages and ages to get where we intended to go, and then cost a lot of money, it actually gave us the opportunity to talk about fan fiction. And I came to a realisation that week-end, both about myself, and how I approach fanfic.

I argue with people all the time that writing good fan fiction (or any derivative work, whether it's DC Comics' Batman, or a Sherlock Holmes pastiche, or a retelling of a myth, legend, or fairy tale) is hard work. It's not less hard work than writing original fiction. It's probably not more hard work than writing original fiction. It's different hard work. If you don't think Shakespeare wasn't sweating blood writing MacBeth or Hamlet or A Midsummer Night's Dream just because he was retelling stories other people had fictionalised and dramatised before him, then you'd best walk away from me right now because we're simply never going to come to a common POV. Best give up now.

The thing that excites me creatively with derivative fiction is the challenge of telling a new story set in an existing universe, and making it fit as cleanly into the original universe as possible. In terms of continuity, in terms of characterisation, I want the audience to feel satisfied that what they are reading could happen. But more than that, I want them to believe for the space of that story that it would happen. That if presented with these new circumstances, the characters we know so well would react exactly this way. I want stories to feel inevitable. That because of who these people are and how they relate to one another, everything that happens could not have happened any other way.

That requires a lot of research. It really does. It means knowing the source material inside out. It means knowing the characters, and being able to reproduce their voices accurately. It also requires skill. Because derivative work still needs to stand on its own as good storytelling. It needs a beginning, a middle, and an ending that satisfies. There have to be real stakes, and at the end of it, something needs to be gained or lost. Whether that something is knowledge, or a change in a character's fundamental views, or evolution of a relationship, the people at the end of your story need to have been changed by the story. Or at the very least, the audience's understanding of that world and those characters needs to be changed by it. And these are not skills unique to fan fiction. But they are skills you need to write good fan fiction. And in my eyes, that means fiction that succeeds both as fiction and derivative fiction. Your mileage, as always, may vary.

I have a passion for writing period pieces. I spent three months researching a story I wrote for a Secret Santa Fiction Exchange, based on Robert Altman's Gosford Park. Because my recipient had asked for an Ivor Novello story, I read a half dozen Novello biographies. Because the story was set in 1932, I read social histories of England between World War I and World War II, and biographies of Novello's peers. I read a dozen books on life in domestic service from Victorian times up through the 1960s. I stuffed my brain full of as much information as I could to accurately reproduce not just the period setting, but the attitudes of the characters, their social backgrounds and class differences. I needed to understand who these people were, in order to view the existing story from a different vantage point, and extrapolate beyond the film to try and say "and here's what happened next".

And I had a ridiculously good time. I really did. And I know that not everyone approaches fan fiction this way, but it's how I approach it, and that's what I find most enjoyable about the process of writing. Even if I only used a tenth of my research in the finished piece, I still enjoyed the process of learning new things immensely.

Some of my friends are proper authors who get paid and everything. It's hard for a lot of these friends to see all the hard work and passion that goes into writing a story like that, when there's no paycheque at the end of it, and understand why I do it. Where the motivation isn't to reach a mass audience, but to reach a niche one. The smallest niche there is, in fact. Because the story is not meant to stand alone, but in a symbiotic relationship to the original text. The effectiveness of the one relies on the context of the other, and the satisfaction the audience derives from it comes from their relationship with the original text.

And while fannish, these pro author friends tend to watch me go insane with tons of research for a story, and then draft after draft, and scratch their heads, and wonder why don't I try and turn that fan story into a professional sale? Because that's what makes sense to them, and I can't blame them. If I were wired differently, I probably would as well. Certainly my long-suffering parents agree with them, but that is neither here nor there.

The process is generally referred to as "filing the serial numbers off" and the idea is that you alter the characters and setting enough that they no longer resemble the original work your story is derived from. It happens all the time. But I can't imagine doing it myself, and I was really reaching as I tred to explain why. Then somewhere between LAX and Silverlake, I think I finally found a way to articulate it so that it makes sense.

Think about "alternative universe" stories.

Whether it's "Hitler won the war" or Star Trek's Mirror Universe, those stories work and are effective entirely because they rely on context. The story you're telling in that alternative universe may well be a cracking good yarn, full of romance and adventure and drama and pathos, with real stakes for fully developed 3-dimensional characters. But the depth and effectiveness that story has relies on the audience's knowledge of the original universe you are diverging from. You need to know the status quo, in order to appreciate how deviating from the status quo affects the characters. You need the knowledge of how those canon characters were shaped by their environment and experiences in the original universe, in order for the new environment and experiences to tell you fundamental truths about the original characters. You cannot fully appreciate the alternative universe without that context.

I can't imagine "filing the serial numbers off" when I write fan fiction, because the effectiveness of those stories relies on who these people are, and the world the come from. If I remove that context, then I've lost what motivated me to write it in the first place. If I set out to tell a story about Robert Parks and Mary MacEachran, then I cannot fundamentally change those characters to the point where they are no longer Robert and Mary, and no longer changed by the events surrounding William McCordle's murder. Because the joy I get is by writing something specifically in that world, for those characters, building on Julian Fellowes' script and those actors performances, and Robert Altman's direction.

I probably will build my own world to play in, and will embrace those challenges someday. And I will be hard work, and it will be different hard work from writing derivative fan works, and work I'll enjoy, and will find satisfying. But right now, I derive tremendous satisfaction from writing fan fiction precisely because it requires me to be a good storyteller and an excellent mimic. And all those skills I use when I write something like Gosford Park or Doctor Who fan fiction, I will use to write original fiction.

But, for me, it has to be conceived of as original fiction.

Characters and stories have to be built with a specific purpose in mind, and trying to repurpose a piece of fan fiction to create an original work is just something I can't get my heard around. If I write something with the intent of selling it as original work, then it really would have to start life as its own story—not retrofitting someone else's. Otherwise, it's an endless game of compromise. How much of the original characters and world can I keep and still be satisfied emotionally by the story I'm telling? How much work would I have to do to make the story compelling for someone with no relationship with the original work? To me, that's an awful lot of work to build something that is neither fish nor fowl. In that specific instance, I'd rather come up with new characters and a new world, than try and retrofit someone else's and still have meaning.

So, anyway, this is what long expensive cab rides are for. Having a captive audience that forces me to articulate things I never could quite manage before, in a way that I hope makes sense.

Once upon a time, for the space of about a minute and a half, I worked as a freelance journalist. I started off writing website reviews for the now-defunct Yahoo Internet Life magazine, and then wrote columns, features, and reviews for now-defunct online magazines like The 11th Hour and MediaSharx. I had a cover story in a tie-in mag, but it was my least favourite job ever, as it involved attending a convention, recording all the panels, and then passing off the transcripts as one-on-one interviews, per the request of my editor. It paid my rent, though. Rent is always important.

My favourite thing, however, were interviews. And I learned how to do them pretty much on my feet, because no writing class I'd ever taken in school actually prepared me for spending 15-45 minutes in someone's company and then turning it around into a 4000 word feature. People are always asking me how I managed to get interviews as a fan journalist, often for fan websites, and so I figured, why not write it all out?

So, here is what I figure you need to know...

First off, unless you know the subject personally, you send a query letter to their agent or manager. If they are an actor or a writer, their agent's contact info will be on file with their union. SAG or WGA will have it on file, and you can get up to three people's agent of record I believe for free. Invest in IMDb Pro. It will save you legwork. Be polite. Be professional. Send letters from your personal or business email--preferably a login in with your real name, not a fictional character, or fan website domain unless that's the fan site you're contacting them on behalf of. Even then, use your real name, not an internet chatroom handle.

Tell them the name of the publication or website, and say you would like to arrange an interview to publicise a specific project, on or around a specific date range. Be flexible. Tell them if you have samples of your work available, to prove you are legit and competant. Accept that not everyone will say yes. Do not get pissy and blog about it in public. Managers and agents and actors and writers are on the internet, and not stupid people. They spend the wee hours of the morning doing vanity searches on Google just like you do. Don't be an idiot. At least not where anyone else can witness it.

Face-to-face or phone interviews are best for one main reason: you can record them. If you record them, you can make an accurate transcript. If you can make an accurate transcript, you will not fall into the worst kind of fakery--passing off paraphrased quotes from memory or shoddy notes as actual verbatim quotes. This isn't about how good you are as a journo. This is about ethics. And it may not mean much at all, but sometimes it means a subject will actually want to talk to you again someday, and that's good for you. People remember being horribly misquoted, or having their words twisted to serve the journalist's own aims. They will remember, and they also talk to one another. Use your brain, and don't be an idiot, and you'll be fine.

A minicassette recorder that plugs into your phone, or can be carried in a handbag is your best friend. I've heard some people have digital ones now. Good for them. I like my Diane, but that's because I'm a dinosaur. Have enough tapes. Always buy new batteries. Test it before you get on site, or before the phone rings. This is important.

First thing you do after your query letter is accepted is research. Read recent interviews with the subject, so you don't ask the same questions that have already been answered in print in multiple places. Google. Fact-check. Get the names of their siblings correct, without making it sound like you're stalking anyone. Know what their next two projects will be.

Make up a question list--which works as a sort of combination checklist and rough outline. First off, this way you can be certain you've covered all the subjects you want to cover. Secondly, it means you'll never hit a brick wall in the middle of an interview, as you try and think of something to ask, off the top of your head. You do not want to waste either the subject's time, or you own. You want to be prepared. Also, some agents and managers will want to see the question list before you actually get the interview.

If it's a phoner, you will be told when the subject will call you, or when the manager will call you and put you through to the subject. Be there to answer the phone (duh). If the subject gives you his or her private phone number, this is not a coup. This is your job. You do not ever ever ever brag to other people about having it. You do not pass it on. You do not fancy that because you spoke with someone on the phone for 15 minutes, that you are now their best mate forever. You are being trusted with something private. Keep that trust, and you may get another interview. This is your goal--to make the interview painless and enjoyable, make the final piece interesting, and help the subject get his or her message across, even if that message is "Please watch my TV series when/if it comes back in January".

If it's a face-to-face, meet in a quiet hotel lobby corner, or restaurant. If at all possible, let the subject pick the locale, so they will be comfortable and at ease. If you like their work, tell them so. No-one ever doesn't like to hear their hard work has found a receptive audience. Do not spend loads of time gushing. You do your job, and if you've done it well, someday, you may get another interview.

Important note: people like to fill silences. Listen, and allow for those silences, because you may get more than your bargained for. Do not make the interview all about you. An actor or writer does not want to know how clever you are. They want to talk about themselves. Let them. Every question may not lead to an answer, but most will. And that answer may lead to 2 or more follow up questions. This is good. But make sure before you go, you've covered everything on your list. Make sure you've thanked them for their time. Make sure you tell their reps thank you for arrnaging it. They did you a favour. You are doing them a favour. It's how the publicity machine works. But they don't owe you anything other than their time. And you don't owe them anything other than doing a good job and writing up a good interview.

Do not pry into the subject's personal life. Ever. If something is offered freely while the recorder's running, good show. But do not expect Lois Lane scoops. If something is said off the record, then it stays off the record. If after you've turned the recorder off you sit and have a gossip, that's all well and good. But that stays between you and the subject. This is not meant to be a social opportunity. This is a job. Do the job, and do it well, and it may lead to more jobs in the future.

Think of fun questions for the end of the interview. Things no-one ever gets asked. "What's your favourite ice-cream flavour?" is always a good one. As is "what do you never get asked, that you wish people would ask in interviews?" is another. Sometimes the answers you get will surprise you. Do no ask them the "Inside the Actor's Studio" questionnaire. It's wanky. No-one actually likes James Lipton. Trust me.

Transcribe the interview. Edit your own questions and comments down, or out (if the material cna stand on its own). People do not want to read about your thoughts. They want to read about the subject's thoughts. Do not infer or imply. Stick to the facts. Do not editorialise. Do remove vocalised pauses, and clean up grammar. People ramble. They start sentences and hen leave off in the middle. They ramble. They are not always eloquent. Make the subject sound articulate, without changing the essence of what they are saying. Do not paraphrase. You will end up sounding like a wanker. And no-one likes a wanker.

Arrange the transcript into a logical progression. You will move things around. That's fine; it's to be expected. Do not take things out of context, to make the subject sound like they were saying something they were not. Keep enough background to give context, but do not spend paragraphs and paragraphs explaining things the reader already knows. Do not pad the finished piece. If anything, pare down to the truth and the essence of things as much as possible. Get in, make your point succinctly, and get out cleanly.

If you are working for an editor, then listen to your editor. They are your editor. This means they are always right. Even when they are wrong. Do not argue. Just make the changes and turn the piece around in a timely fashion. Offer the reps the chance to read the finish piece, if possible. 9 times out of 10, they will be fine with it, and want a copy of the finished piece for their records and press packets.

Act professional, and you will be treated like a professional. Don't fuck it up, and you'll get to do it again someday. And maybe even get paid for it.

There. That's all the wisdom I've got. Have fun.

JamesMarsterslive.com would like you to know of an upcoming one day con in London next month:

Calling all TORCHWOOD fans – don’t miss the opportunity to meet some of the Torchwood stars and behind the scenes talent. The Rift is a one day convention in Porchester Hall in Central London on Saturday, April 26, 2008. Confirmed guests include: Eve Myles, Gareth David Lloyd, James Marsters, Alan Dale, Richard Stokes (producer) Chris Chibnall (writer) and James Moran (writer). Guests will be signing autographs, taking photographs, doing Q&A sessions and panel discussions. James Marsters will end the evening with a bang by rocking the house in a live concert! Don't miss out on all the fun – for complete details and tickets go to www.jamesmarsterslive.com.

I can personally attest to the fabulousness that is James Moran. If you go, hug him for me.