Art, Content, Dissatisfaction

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Someone I follow on Twitter was commenting on corporate multiverses and the endless reuse and processing of content.  This reminded me of my previous thoughts, but this person put it better than I – my favorite part bolded:

Corporations will absolutely unashamedly shit on everything every artist has ever made, chew them up and spit them out and offer nothing. No art, just endless content.

Now I’ve commented on quality in some corporate multiverses, and even praised them, but I also have gotten tired and uninspired by a lot of media lately. Few things seem to connect to me outside of some anime/animated properties, and I find myself exploring more esoteric corners and non-fiction.

No art, just endless content.  Their words stick with me.

Art is something that connects with us and also knocks us into somewhere else mentally.  I’ve had that moment of deep, meaningful experience in everything from anime to samurai movies to audio-visual collages.  They don’t even have to be “good” per se, but they’re visions that mean something.

Content is when you just fill things in, check the boxes, and call it a day.  It may be enjoyable, and there may be art in there (and often is), but it’s not deep or meaningful and doesn’t stick with you.  It’s not necessarily bad (Indeed, I can think of a cooking show or two that fits this), but it’s not something that feeds the soul and leaves you someone else.

Of course, content is easy.  It doesn’t rock the boat (or does just enough to get attention).  It can be boiled down to a formula and yield some success.  It can be made regularly.  It’s nice and predictable, even when it presents to be unpredictable.  Modern technology makes it even easier!

Art is wild, unpredictable, and disruptive (even when intended not to be).  It’s when you get out there and make something not to check the boxes but to do your vision, do your thing.  Sure you may make money, and you might need SOME checkboxes, but it’s about something deeper.

Many a good artist knew how to get asked for content and deliver art.  Some HK action movies fit that vein.  I’d count the He-Man CGI as the same.  The unexpected success of the Early-00’s My Little Pony remake is an example.  But that quest for Content overshadows the future of each property that takes the money for content and makes art.

I suppose the point of this rant is now I understand some of my dissatisfaction.  There’s so much content, but I want art, and I want to share it.  This doesn’t exactly solve anything, but now I have better language.

That’s a start towards me understanding what I want to find – and what I want to produce with my writing.

Steven Savage

The Love Of The Game Doesn’t Always End Well

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Doing your best can be the worst thing you can do for the world.

I was pondering how I market my books – and I have a hatred of marketing.  The soulless statistics, the cold calculations, the degradation of inspired writing into pandering prose.  There’s something about marketing that is meaningless, just moving units to consumers without any purpose but money.

I also love marketing.  The thrill of working the calculations out!  The joy of optimizing to get it just right!  Picking the perfect keywords!  There’s a thrill of the game to get it right – not even to win but to do it the best you can!

That experience jarred loose some other theories, and I want to discuss the fact that a lot of evil in the world can come from people who just enjoy playing the game.  Oh they may do evil as well, they should be aware of the repercussions of what they do, but sometimes they’re just playing their game because its fun.

Think of all the people optimizing social media for hits and engagement and creating chaos.  Yes there are people seeking profits and covering their backsides, but I’m sure many a person is just enjoying optimizing.  The thrill of doing something right can miss that it’s also very wrong.

My fellow writers and I often complain about pandering authors, but aren’t some formulaic authors just into getting the formula right?  Pandering and making money is a challenge, a challenge that must appeal to many.  So sure, they may churn out books many would decry, but how many are also just enjoy working out the best way to pander?

As this thought ping-ponged around my head before it emerged in this post, I realized how much of my behavior is the joy of getting it right.  My job is Project and Program Management and Process Improvement, and it’s just goddamn fun to figure how to make stuff work.  Recoding Seventh Sanctum, frustrating (and oft interrupted the last year) was still amazing to figure how to get it all right.  My Way With Worlds series has a formula to it that I had fun figuring out so I can deliver what my audience wants.

I’m a person who enjoys the game, but I’m just less evil and more inclined to moral insight than some people (thanks to a long interest in theology and psychology).

So I’m not up for saying people who “play their game” have to be forgiven for the wrongs they do.  There are many dangerous things in this world we need to stop or regulate for our survival, and motivations don’t change that.  But it may help us prevent evil by understanding how innocent drives can lead to great dangers.

It may also let us notice before we do something wrong.  Because I’m sure there’s a game we all love playing, and that love might keep us from noticing the repercussions of our choices . . .

Doing things right can go very wrong.

Steven Savage

Making No Choice In An Age Of Many

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

How do you make your media choices?  As Serdar notes in an excellent column, choices are complicated; we often have so many we play it safe.  A thousand movies present options so overwhelming we go with a sequel.  The next One Piece episode will deliver something you liked ten episodes ago.  Choice makes us flee to safety too often – and our existing technology and culture encourage it because it’s profitable.

Our media diet is poorer for this paradox – I’m tired of all the sameness even when it’s good sameness like Marvel.  Anyway, the post is excellent, go read it.

I relate to this subject as I’ve been cultivating my reading lately.  I wanted to read new works – or ones I missed – and re-read beloved books from my past to ground myself.  Thus I’m going through a delightful mix of Taoist mysticism, writing advice, informative non-fiction, novels I loved, and fiction that I selected carefully.  One week I’m reading about breath meditation, the next is re-reading Asprin’s “Another Fine Myth.”

I found this cultivation takes continuous effort.  Do I really want to read this book?  Will this book provide a benefit for me?  Have my priorities changed?  Am I the kind of person who will spend $16.00 on a fascinating translation of a short, obscure document on health practices of centuries past (answer: yes).

I’ve realized that cultivating our reading – or any media consumption – takes effort, discipline, and practice.  It’s also something no one taught us how to do – and why would we they?  People assume you pick up media selectivity somewhere, and isn’t all this choice a good thing anyway?

We’ve been thrust into a world of choice we never expected with little training to deal with it.

Sometimes I speculate, “could someone write a book or teach a class on media selectivity?”  Is there a way to get people on board with more careful media choices?  Of course, we know that would just be another work viying for attention; what are the odds someone could be the Marie Kondo of media choice?

Right now all I and my friends can do is encourage people to make choice, share our findings, and go on.  If you’re doing the same, please share – maybe we can cultivate our media diets together.  Perhaps that’s the best – or only – way.

Steven Savage