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A tale of language
Do you remember this newsletter? After a brief period of rest and relaxation, then a longer one of stress and absolute mayhem, I feel back on track again.The past month I completed 2 years living abroad, meaning 2 years that I switched to working full time using a second language instead of my native tongue. And I figured, during this period I might have accumulated more learnings than I accounted for. So here's is a somewhat short list of Things I Learned Communicating Daily In Another Language:A second language is a superpowerI understand insecurity. I understand feeling you don't know enough to communicate, let alone to hold it to high standards - I felt that anxiety, trust me. But more benefits come from it than you might imagine. Different languages sprout from different logical roots, wiring our brains to think in distinct patterns. Which also translates to how you formulate ideas - you think different, in quite a literal way. You lived a different culture, you understand another demographic. I have grown the utmost respect for anyone who communicates in a language that is not their native, no matter the level, as it takes courage and it offers so many fresh perspectives. Languages are live things, they reflect culture, values, ways of thinking and being.Necessity is the mother of inventionA curious pattern I noticed in my job practice is I tend to a much more visual storytelling style now than I used to when I worked with Portuguese speakers, that of course affected by an active pursuit of this style but also because visual communication is much more universal, it stands on its own no matter what language you speak. A character animation can convey emotions just as well-written dialogue would, with the upside (for me, the writer) of not getting tangled in language barriers. Sometimes writing a good punchline proves to be harder because no matter how fluent I am, I am not a native speaker. Natives bend the language at their own will; they know it so well from a lifetime of constant use that they are able to distort the rules, explore the dimension of phonetics, move past grammar and formal speech. They have their superpowers too - we second-languagers just get resourceful in other ways.Cultural contrasts are never an afterthoughtThis is quite specific to using English as your second language, which is the case for most people, I suppose. The English-speaking world is the center of Western culture. Most pop references come from it, holidays and traditions that come from the US and UK are widely known, even though they are not actively celebrated around the world. So there is a tendency in entertainment in general to take English-speaking culture as the baseline; everybody knows what it is, there is no need for explaining. This is a problematic assumption in many levels (including the colonizing one, but we are not digging there today), and even though for most native English speakers this doesn't come from a bad place, culturalization is not always an active concern for them. That means adapting and adjusting your content to fit other cultural standards, from flagging potential sensitive subjects to making sure a joke is still funny in any language. For English second-languagers, this "cultural radar" is always on, the discrepancies constantly evident. And that, once more, is a superpower. If you as an entertainment creator* fear using the gift that was given to you of being able to say "hey everyone, I don't think this is going to sound good in some places", my heart goes out to you. Stay strong, multi-lingual hero.Good communication is not just good grammarKnowing how to write well is, of freaking course, a must for a writing gig. That is a job requirement for this profession. While we can argue writing well doesn't mean writing pretty, clear communication is also not a synonym of perfect writing or speech. Daily work communication is much more about reaching out to people, being open and being honest. That is regardless of what languages you speak, how fast you type, how strong is your accent. A LOT of my second-languager colleagues are extremely self-aware of their accents, when I find it the most interesting and incredible thing to seat at a table surrounded by people that all sound different from each other. That is a strength, the ability for all this people to understand each other no matter what is a strength, and an accent should never stop you from sharing and communicating. As the poet says, be brave, be kind, be loud because you're latino and it's impossible not to.*This is my absolute refusal to adopt the term "content creators" that the internet made into a thing. Everything is content; not everything is entertainment.
A tale of love.
Why video games don't get love right?Granted, some video games not only get love, they are molded and shaped by it in their entirety. But make-believe romance is sometimes a mix of second-hand embarrassment and belief suspension. Every art form thrives on love, the most human of human feelings. Then why not games?Love, the romantic kind, can be compared to a drug in how our brains and bodies react to it. There's even data to prove that feeling love activates the same addiction zones in your brain that using cocaine would. We feel cravings for the person we love, withdrawals when the relationship ends or you spend a long time apart. Your body has more energy when you're around them; it's like an obsession. It doesn't last forever in its intensity, but love is an intense feeling. It envelopes us as this incomparable, symbiotic human experience. And that's why art always chases after its thrill.Music, literature, visual arts, poetry, any and all form of storytelling. They speak of romantic love, every day, all of the time. Above everything, the way we form romantic bonds is complicated. It relies on a delicate mix of chemistry, sexual orientation, sexual 0attraction, personal values, social conventions, time and effort. I don't have data to back me up, but I would bet human beings have the most complex mating rituals on Earth. Hence why they are so hard to reproduce. Video games are, by definition, simulations (even if the simulation layer lives only in controls, simulating actions through an input). By putting the player front and center, able to make decisions and experience the outcome, games make it harder for themselves to simulate love.Love is present in many games. It is part of the human condition, it leaks into everything we do, romantic or not. The actual hard part is to replicate falling in love. It took other forms of media decades or centuries to refine the expression of the process that love entails, most often not taking into consideration that a random person was going to play a part there, like in a video game, to artificially feel these feelings. There's also the point that, if you successfully simulate falling in love in any art form, this is a finite feeling. The character for whom they fall in love lives on an illusion, and any other experience with them is fan fiction.I realized, while writing this paragraph, I might be heading into a conclusion that fan fiction is a high form of unrequited love. Or a complement to the experience of love in games and other media. That's enough for today, ain't it?-Maíra
A tale of mystery.
A detective story often starts with a lie.They also start with a crime - of course. But the lie I refer to might be an alibi the criminal uses; a personal motivation of the detective persona (they tell themselves it's justice, instead of their real personal drivers such as trauma or revenge); the assumptions around a motivation for the crime. Mystery stories are founded on lies, and our nature beckons us, the audience, to uncover the truth.Here is a personal opinion: what makes good detective stories is not the mystery itself. I am fond of whodunnits - detective stories that center on finding the culprit of a crime - but even fonder of howcatchems, the inverted trope where the who in the equation is revealed from the get-go. The journey lies on uncovering the why. That is not so say a howcatchem won't have impressive plot twists, as it is common in such stories. The plot twist is a big deal in mystery stories, as uncovering the plot way ahead of time defeats the purpose of the genre itself. yet, we all know that one friend with a special talent to ruin an otherwise decent movie, book or game. It is like they have a sixth sense for plot twists and are capable to dig them out early on. [full disclosure, I am one of these annoying friends]Telegraphing is not, in fact, a magical skill on the audience part but something writers can add to the story without even realizing it. The lines between telegraphing and foreshadowing are blurred, and mystery stories often live within this space. The writer wants to leave breadcrumbs to tie the solution together once the twist comes, but also can't be too obvious. Foreshadowing lies in subtlety, not on crooked road signs that end up sticking out like sore thumbs. Let's make an impromptu example. Say our protagonist is investigating two suspects on a small town murder. One is an estranged friend who knew the victim back from high school, and another is the obvious husband. They uncover that husband and said friend were having an affair, but there is eloquent proof that the husband was out of town on the night of. The friend also has an alibi, having attended a beginner pottery class that night. The detective can't place neither on the crime scene at the time of the murder, but following the affair as motivation, pays a visit to the friend to ask some questions. In their house, they spot a plethora of ceramic pots, which the suspect confirms were all made by them. The detective leaves, puzzled for not having found any new clues.It is an obvious example, but the inconsistency stands out pretty clear - a long-time ceramist, even a hobbyist, wouldn't need to attend a beginners' class. The estranged friend committed the crime and used the class as an alibi. Here the telegraphing affects the narrative in two ways: giving away the plot, and hurting the trust the audience builds with their protagonist, now seen as untrustworthy for missing an "obvious" clue. A foreshadowing version of this same example might have been to show but not tell about the ceramic pots in the suspect's house (if you want to get very Agatha Christie), reveal an unreliable narrator, or have the detective find marks on the crime scene early on and describe them "like grooves on clay". Once the audience revisits the story in their head, they notice the signs were there all the time, explaining a character's behavior, a motivation (the why) or even reframing the entire account of facts.A detective story often ends with the truth, be it the truth the audience seeks or what the protagonist needed to find. Either way, we all win.-Maíra
A Tale of Identity
A few weeks ago, I got asked a question that tilted my world off its axis.What is your brand as a writer?I squirm inside, bothered by my own prying eyes that examine and question and wonder. I don't know – stop staring! – I don't know.Thinking of yourself as a "brand" is not the most fun exercise. You have to consider what characteristics of your work you wish to sell – that on itself a sad thought – or how do you want others to perceive you on a professional level. On a very personal note, I have been trying for years to detach myself from what others think of me, so not a fun thought exercise for sure.Personal crisis aside, let's take a look at some useful questions. Keep in mind, I have no idea what I am doing, although I do believe you could fit any type of creative work into them. Or non-creative as well? What do I know.How do people perceive your work? Strengths can be hard to assess on your own because we tend to see our own body of work as a journey, not the final product. This would be a good opportunity to ask people around you, like work colleagues or trusted fellow writers, to describe your past and present writing in a few adjectives. This helps surface common traits. You might have a particular lyrical vocabulary, or write great natural dialogue. You might have a way with underdog characters, or always add a sociological component to your stories. Or even be well-versed on a certain format or platform.Another angle to look at it is your style. Not just what you write about – also how. Style is hard to measure and even harder to explain. To give an outstanding example, José Saramago has an uncommon style because he writes with little to no punctuation. It is part of his brand, yet Saramago is also known for his extreme allegories and ironic parables that are part of his writer's voice. Style is a big component of individuality, when you think of what makes your work stand apart. But do you have an individual, recognizable voice? It's OK not to have an answer right away – I think voice is the one thing we spend our entire careers pursuing. Once you figure out yours, what parts of you leak into the page, you may realize that voice, style, themes and strengths are all part of the same package.All of this speaks to things you do well, and that's the catch. Your brand is about what you are known for just as it is about what you wish to be known for. Maybe you have had great opportunities to write coming-of-age stories while you in fact would like to write sci-fi. So how to brand yourself to steer towards this different direction if you haven't written sci-fi professionally before?Then comes what I will call curating. Your body of work, all the things you have created and set free in the world (or locked in a drawer), does not need to be represented in its entirety by your brand. Some things in there are not part of your style, or the voice you are seeking, or don't have the traits you would like to highlight. Let's face it, some of them are not you anymore, if they ever have been. So you curate for your brand. You select and distill the parts of your work that better represent what you want to be known for. (Obs.: this is similar to what you would do with your portfolio, presenting your best work or what you are most proud of, yet in this case I ask you to be an insufferable artiste and think of why are you proud of these pieces.)So, while I asked those questions, I had to acknowledge that I work in mobile games for long enough that writing for them feels natural and effortless. Which posed the question: is that what I want to be known for? As I reflected on my style and voice, I noticed a common thread in almost all the stuff I have ever written – humor. Not comedy per se, I am not that funny; sense of humor. Is that my voice, or is it my brand? Did this exercise end on a perfect closing note?At this point, you know me better than that.-Maíra
A Tale of Paperback
I've been away for a little longer than planned. A writer's block, I guess. Still there. But yesterday, or today while I write this issue, was this newsletter's one-year anniversary. A shock, it still lives!I intend to try and keep the once-every-2-weeks frequency, perhaps sometimes once a month, as I only write here when I feel there is something to say, and sometimes... there isn't. Most often is about myself and my own experiences, so your patience with this newsletter is never overlooked.I'm glad to be here, to write here, and above all to have you reading it. Thank you. I appreciate you.Let's keep this train on the tracks.--A couple of years ago, I could barely finish one book in an entire month.Last year ended with a whopping read count of 60. Sixty books in twelve months, a not so high number by some standards but really impressive to me, someone who struggled to juggle "work" read and fun read ever since my early twenties.There's no magic to how this happened, no pro tip or moral to the story. I consider this as getting out of a reading slump and diving right into a reading binge. I'll get to that soon. But, as proud as I am to wave that number around, it came at the cost of "staying behind" in some other favorite pastimes so I could catch up on my reading. This is the paradox of entertainment in the 21st century - we have so much to entertain us we stress picking what to be entertained with. Not being able to consume entertainment right as it hits daylight makes us feel obsolete, prone to spoilers, left out of conversations and pop culture in general. It's impossible to stay on top of things unless that is your full time job. (What are spoilers, anyway?)But back to books.Different people take different avenues to learn. Some might even prefer to venture through the alleys, or walk down the emptier streets neighboring the avenue, but at some point we all get to Knowledgetown. For whatever reason, my favorite avenue is reading. Maybe because of the low stakes that seem to accompany them; want to learn something new? Here, take a book! It will look good on your shelf and no harm in having another tome for a rainy day, right? And that's how I surrounded myself, and my home, and my shelves, with books. I found myself surrounded again, still in a rut, thinking, "how the heck am I supposed to read all of this?".So I revisited a book I loved (it was Machado de Assis, as you are probably not wondering). Made myself read it again. And then came another. And soon enough I was picking up new books, good books, terrible books, recommended books, let's just stay in and read books, what am I doing it's 2 AM on a weekday books. I had book cravings and like an addict I would dig into whatever that Massive E-book Empire had under "sci-fi" or anything that sparked my interest that week, and let me tell you how much BAD stuff there is to find out there, oof. Not to understate the work and effort and courage it takes to write a book and put it out there. But that doesn't mean they are all good.Yet this binge-return to reading shifted something in me, and before it became clear enough to surface into words, realization of how much my own style changed during this year hit me. Like with anything artistic, we the creatives absorb references like a sponge, internalize them, and in the eventuality of creation, they spill out mixed in our own thoughts and ideas. I sense these changes more than I see them. Not sure if, objectively, my writing style shifted. Maybe is my thought process that engulfed the structure of literature, lyricism and rhythm. Maybe it's a consequence of maturing, of internal changes that leak into what we do. Long story short, I'm the basic bitch who read 60 books and now thinks she's Hemingway.Well then, back to cutting down adverbs.-Maíra
A Tale of Nostalgia
I had a spark to write again, and it felt good. To sit down and feel the ideas pore out through my fingers nearly brought me to tears. Not because it doesn't happen when I'm working, it does, but I wasn't writing anything I want to put out there in the world. No one needs to see this. I'm collecting this feeling of writing something and merely being happy about it. Bottling it for the bad times.A good segway to what I actually want to write about today.You might have listened before to Neil Diamond singing on and on about a sweet girl named Caroline, where he takes the uplifting chorus to remind Caroline that "Good times never seemed so good / I've been inclined / To believe they never would". You don't know that you're living the good old times until they are far enough away that you remember them as the good old times. Some sort of paradox in there, where you also add what Neil is talking about (sorry Neil, I'm interpreting your words here) - no present good times can compare to the good old times until someday they also turn into old times.The thing Neil talks about (I assume) is nostalgia, and nostalgia is a double-edged sword. It happens when we look at our own pasts with blurred lens. The old times sometimes may seem really good because you are feeling nostalgic, looking at it with the knowledge and state of mind you had back then, not knowing what you know now. Better in the past is not always really better, it was good at that moment, when you enjoyed things differently because you were a different person.Nostalgia is powerful. And it leads our older selves - more knowledgeable, often financially more stable - to invest in trying to bring those good feelings back. That's why children's books that were smash hits while Millennials were kids are taking over pop culture right now; Millennials grew up to have the financial means to buy everything related to that nostalgic thing they loved when they were kids and had no money of their own to spend. For this generation in particular, nostalgia is incredibly profitable. The fact that a lot of generational anxieties suppress the joy in present, "adult" accomplishments such as getting a promotion or buying a house, we turn our attentions to the past. The good old times when we were kids and had no worries in the world, when Harry Potter was the best literature ever and you played D&D with your friends every week. But the feelings of the good old times will not come back, not really. And we enter this cycle of trying to recreate a scenario of our lives that simply cannot be because you cannot stop yourself from changing, from learning, from growing. So present times will never compare. And one day, you will look back to today and think "Heck. These were the times."Modern media and entertainment explore and milk nostalgia as much as possible. Because it makes money, very much so. But most nostalgia-based entertainment today fails to hit the spot, as they too are trying to recreate a feeling and a vibe that will not come back - as people change, so does the world. Cowboy Bebop will not be good in a live-action version with CGI. I mean, I could have told them that way ahead (anyone could, really). We are reaching a saturation point in pop culture where we are bombarded with recycled stories over and over again. So much of entertainment is derivative, eating their own tails, trying to copy what they themselves did before. And we are reaching a sort of breaking point where the masses are starting to see how everything is turning into a collage of everything else. Not in the good way at all.I hope someday we look back at these days as the bad old times. You know, the point that we don't want to go back to. One can hope.-Maíra