Whenever I get deep into my writing projects, I get an itch to return to Michael Macbeth. Originally conceived thirty years ago (yikes), Michael took a lot of (undisguised) inspiration from Dirk Gently, and to this day is a character I greatly enjoy—but for whom I have a very rough time coming up with ideas. I did manage to write one short novel featuring him, as a NaNoWriMo project, but it was… thin? There was some genuinely good stuff in it, but the whole was definitely lesser than the sum of its parts.

On a related note, the topic of the Brigid and Greg Fictionlets comes up in conversation periodically; Multiclass Geek recently pondered what a story about that dynamic duo now would look like, compared to their heyday of the early 2000s, but that idea would by necessity take the story places I wouldn’t really want to go (Isadora’s age being just one example). Like Jeeves and Wooster before them, Brigid and Greg are inhabitants of a particular moment, and letting time pass for them would force them to change into something else.

The biggest obstacle with both Michael Macbeth and B&G, I think, is that they are both about “a vibe.” Michael Macbeth is “creepy and kooky on a rainy afternoon in a college town.” B&G is “what if Jeeves and Wooster were Gen-Xers?” But a vibe is not a story, a vibe is just… a vibe. When I go to write about these characters, I get hung up on trying to think of things to actually happen, because part of the requirement is that it shouldn’t significantly change their status quo. A Michael Macbeth that doesn’t live in his shabby little apartment always just a few dollars away from broke, isn’t Michael Macbeth any more. The goal for Brigid and Greg in any long narrative would be “get out of whatever is going on and go home.”

In writing The Sky Pirate’s Prisoner, I had the freedom of characters who could end up anywhere as long as the journey was interesting—if anything the whole premise of that story is that the status quo is untenable and must be destroyed. How do you send heroes on a journey where the goal is to remain mostly unchanged by the end?

Obviously it can and has been done, many times over. Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, just about any superhero you can name, all have long and serialized careers that consist of resetting back to starting point at the end of each story. And those work by focusing on the plot, the series of events, rather than on character development. As somebody whose strength is primarily in character development, I suppose it’s no surprise that I flounder there.

But I keep trying! And I will probably continue to keep trying, as long as I can put words together.

So NaNoWriMo is going the way of the dodo. Posts about it on Mastodon or Bluesky all tie that to their embrace of AI, but what I’ve seen suggests that they’ve been struggling for some time. Given how excited I was to participate in it once upon a time, I would expect to have stronger feelings about it, but honestly I just don’t. I have reached the stage where I assume unless proven otherwise that enshittification of anything good is a matter of when, not if; as such, I just don’t emotionally invest in such things the way I once did.

But I’d say that NaNoWriMo is an exemplar of a larger trend of the web and post-web era: so many of the web’s best things are just not viable economic concerns, and should never have been treated as such. Just like nobody should reasonably expect to somehow make a living building model trains or hiking mountain trails, “encouraging people to write” is a valuable activity on its own, but trying to make it financially remunerative is just not a thing that will go anywhere. In the same vein as “the Post Office is a public service, not a business,” our culture has an unhealthy fixation on trying to make everything profitable somehow, even things that just aren’t.

There’s a reason so many artists and other creative types can only make a living via some kind of patronage arrangement. Art, writing, other creative pursuits are immensely valuable to society without being profitable, in the same way that exercise or brushing your teeth are valuable to an individual person without being profitable. There are exceptions of course, creative people who can make a living or even thrive through their work—but there are also professional athletes who make a living or even thrive through doing exercise. But those exceptions are extreme outliers.

If NaNoWriMo had stayed in its lane, so to speak, and always been considered a valuable community activity and event instead of a money-making enterprise, it would still be alive and well and beloved by many. (The whole AI thing was a huge blow to their reputation, of course, making the beloved part less of a slam dunk… but who knows how much of the AI thing was a desperation bid to make a profit? I’m not versed enough in the matter to have a meaningful opinion on it.)

So, alas, poor NaNoWriMo. I am proud that I managed to succeed at the challenge once or twice, and I’m grateful for the impetus it gave me. But the truth is it had long stopped being relevant.

-The Gneech

“It used to annoy me when my elders would bemoan the sad state of the world,” said Greg. “But in this case, things really did used-to-be-better. All of our society’s evils linger on like a cold that just won’t go away, while everything good withers and dies.”

Brigid narrowed her eyes. “Is that some kind of crack about my mother?”

“What?” said Greg. “No! Your mother is a national treasure. I’m talking about the degradation of our culture.”

“Anything specific?”

“Even Dunkin’ Donuts doesn’t carry crullers any more,” said Greg.

Brigid nodded sadly. “We live in an age of barbarism.”

Greg sighed, clearly fighting off despair. “How can we have fallen so low?”

-The Gneech

“You ever notice that people don’t squeeze the Charmin any more?” asked Greg.

“What?” said Brigid.

“Well, I was just—”

“Why would I notice a thing like that?” Brigid demanded. “Why would you notice a thing like that? Frankly I find it hard to believe that anybody in the history of ever actually did squeeze the Charmin!”

Greg shrugged noncommittally, but now that Brigid was warming up, she wasn’t about to stop. “I mean, come on. I know you’re Mr. Airy Persiflage, but you’re not stupid. Squeezing the Charmin was something some Madison Avenue suit came up with, just like the San Francisco treat or the quicker picker-upper. You’ve got to know that, haven’t you?”

“Mmm,” said Greg, more focused on his driving than her rant.

“‘Mmm’?” echoed Brigid. “Don’t you have anything more to say than ‘Mmm’?”

Greg glanced over at her. “You’ve got ring around the collar,” he said, then focused his attention on a tricky left turn. The fact that he was the one in the driver’s seat is probably what saved his life.

-The Gneech

<-- previous B&G

I vaguely remember when the original RWBY trailers came out, thinking “Huh, neat.” But I wasn’t particularly interested, and stayed that way for a long time. It didn’t really make a ping on my attentional radar until late into volume 6, when the “bumbleby” ship became pretty darn close to official with the Blake/Yang/Adam fight. Running concurrently with all the heavy-duty shipping in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the obvious parallels between Blake/Yang and Catra/Adora meant it was all but impossible to be aware of one and not the other. Without any context of the show, I watched the big BMBLB fight isolated from the rest of the show, and thought, “Huh, neat.” But that was enough that when Tulok created a video on How to Play Yang in D&D, I both understood the references and thought, “Y’know, that sounds like a fun character to play.”

Fast forward a few years to when my buddy InkBlitz announced he wanted to run a Spelljammer-meets-Treasure Planet campaign. I decided that now was the time to dust off the character idea, and Aurora Sparkfall, monk of the Order of the Radiant Dragon, was born. And since she was inspired by Yang, I figured it was a good time to finally go and actually watch the show.

But searching for RWBY online showed me its fandom first, or at least the noisiest parts. My search results were filled with things like “RWBY: How to Ruin a Franchise,” “Why I’m Never Watching RWBY Again,” “RWBY Volume 5: The Worst Thing Ever Made,” “RWBY: A Frustrating Mess,” etc., etc., ad nauseam. I’d also brushed up against RWBY shipping wars as part of the She-Ra fandom, given their overlap, and the impression I’d received was that RWBY was essentially a string of cool fight scenes strung together by the worst-written plot-hole ridden ever. That didn’t really match the little bit I’d watched, but I figured that was just because I’d seen some isolated good parts.

So that’s what I went in expecting. I binged the first three seasons in one day, playing in the background while I drew, and… they were good. Rough visually since they were animated in Poser, and a bit choppy since they were originally 5-15 minute webisodes made for YouTube, but fun adventure stories with, yes, cool fights. I knew that Monty Oum, one of the creators of the show and the primary fight choreographer, had unexpectedly passed away between volumes two and three, and so much of the criticism of the show seemed to draw a sharp “Monty Era vs. Post-Monty Era” line, that I figured I must have seen all the good parts and the precipitous drop must surely come shortly.

Except it didn’t. The show got more polished, the writing got more focused, the characterization got deeper… the show kept getting better. And while I think the fight choreography did become a little weaker, everything else around it was so rapidly improving that I quickly became hooked and eager to see what came next. Critics’ cries of “The show has gone off the rails!” and “This isn’t what Monty wanted!” become more and more inexplicable as I saw setups that were clearly made in the first few episodes lead to payoffs that made absolute sense long after his passing. (Plus, how would the critics know what Monty wanted better than the people who actually developed the show with him? Surely if The Secret Notes of Monty Oum were a thing, the RWBY team would have as much access to it as randos on the internet.)

So over the course of three? Four? weeks I’ve caught up with all the currently-available RWBY, including the end of volume eight and the trailer for volume nine, due to come early next year, and I have thoughts. Specifically, that RWBY is much better than its fandom seems to think it is. There are places where it doesn’t line up with my personal preferences one way or another (the soap opera-esque focus on plot and dramatic thrust over character development being a big one, and its tendency to get weighed down in political shenanigans that everyone knows will be blasted by the inevitable season-finale-apocalypse anyway being another), but these things aren’t bad by any stretch, they’re just not my cup of tea.

As far as actual flaws? I dunno, its tendency to mistake “references” for “depth” is an issue, but then again, how many hundreds of times has Star Trek made extremely tenuous links to Shakespeare or Moby Dick and patted itself on the back for being so smart while it did so? The constant ship-teasing is getting perilously close to queerbaiting at this stage and the audience’s collective shouts of “GET ON WITH IT!” are hurting suspension of disbelief. But hot take: these flaws aren’t actually that bad. RWBY is not ruined, volume five was not the worst TV that ever worsted, and RWBY doesn’t need “fixing.” The worst that I can say about it is that the last two volumes felt to me like they were written by committee rather than following a strong vision, but then again volume nine is a giant left turn and seems like it will be interesting and surprising.

So, yeah. RWBY is good! Not as slam-dunk good as She-Ra, or as impressively realized as something like the MCU, but still something I like, I’m glad to have watched, and am looking forward to seeing more of. I’d call that a success.

-TG

It’s hardly a secret that I love martial arts action. I’ve practiced (on a dabbler level) Shaolin style, wing chun, tai chi, and judo at varying times in my life, and famously hold Big Trouble In Little China as my favorite movie. So, it should hardly be a surprise that I frequently want to play a monk in D&D.

(Which is weird, because historically D&D has hated monks, and I don’t understand why. But that’s for another post.*)

So when my buddy InkBlitz announced his much-hinted at Spelljammer** campaign, telling us to create a character at 5th level with a single common or uncommon magic item, after mucking around with a handful of different ideas, I finally settled on Aurora: an aasimar monk of the ascended dragon who, ain’t gonna lie to ya folks, is pretty much Yang from RWBY. Her fists are on fire and she punches stuff until it explodes—or shoots fire bolts at it if she can’t reach it to taunt it into coming close enough for her to punch it with fire until it explodes. Ascendant dragon monks can do a breath weapon a few times, but to get the real ranged boom I went with a wand of magic missiles reskinned as gauntlets. They do force instead of radiant or fire (which would be more thematically on point), but force is resisted by fewer things anyway so I’ll say its channelled ki bursts and call it a day.

But of course me being me, I wanted her to have interesting RP opportunities out of combat, and as I’m one of the most natural faces in the player group*** I figured I’d make her a facey monk. Ascended dragon does have a free reroll of a Persuasion check built in, so of all the monk subclasses, it’s the only one that supports a face roll face role at all. Buuuuut monks got no ability scores to spare on Charisma: they need to pour everything they’ve got into Dexterity, Wisdom, and Constitution, in that order. I managed to eke out a 12 and give her proficiency in Persuasion and Intimidation at least, giving her +4 in both of those, which is competent, but she’s not gonna be going Full Clooney on anyone any time soon.

Also, monks punch a lot, but they don’t punch very hard, something I’m keenly aware of after DMing two campaigns back to back where the barbarian does All The Damage In the Universe each turn, and everybody else is like “Oh, and I attack too.” As an experiment I made a build that was a zealot path barbarian, with an eye towards reskinning a flametongue sword as her burning gauntlets, and that was some sweet damage but… flametongue is a rare weapon, she can’t have it. Oops. XD Since “her hands are on fire” is a central conceit of the character idea, it’s back to monk.

So once again I’m fighting the system. I swear I don’t do this on purpose!

But! Blitzy told us to use the character building variations from the new One D&D playtest, which means she gets a free “first level” feat! There’s only a tiny number of them actually in the playtest document, but in the accompanying vids Jeremy Crawford basically implied that the main thing that makes a feat “first level” is that it doesn’t have any stat bumps. I started with Tough, since monks are often on the squishy side for front-line (or even behind-the-lines) combatants, but I was still shopping around for something to boost her faceyness. Wait! Skill Expert gives you expertise with a single skill! She could take that for Persuasion! Except no! She can’t! That has a stat bump and so can’t be a 1st level feat! *facepalm*

Back to Tough? Fighting Initiate to get a d8 with Unarmed Fighting? I’m still waffling and the game is tomorrow night! Skip both and go with Mobile? She already has 40′ of movement and can fly for a minute three times per day. Ask Blitzy to let me homebrew a feat that would take two half-feat parts of Skill Expert and Athlete to give her the ability to kip-up? Haven’t I tortured Blitzy enough??? XD (And in case you’re reading this Blitzy, no, I don’t actually want to do that. XD )

It wouldn’t be so much of a conundrum if feats weren’t so rare. As a monk, Aurora absolutely needs to channel her ASIs into Dexterity and Wisdom in order to scale with the rest of the party (or at least as much as monks do), and so she can’t afford to spend them on feats. In the final analysis, I think I’m going to end up going back to Tough. There’s no feat she’s able to take to buff her faceyness, and starting next level she’ll be taking either fighter or ranger to boost her damage output, so I can wait for that.

FWIW, I attempted a version of this character in PF2E just for comparison, assuming 3rd level PF2E was roughly equivalent to 5th level 5E. I think I succeeded? With my limited system mastery, I’m not sure if an ifrit monk with the Rain of Embers and Stoked Flame stances is what I’m going for or not. >.> But at least her feat selection was more granular! XD

-TG

*Seriously, WotC? d4 base damage? d8 hit die? Step of the Wind costs ki? Rogues get it better for no cost and don’t have to trade their extra damage to do it.
**Homebrewed extensively, but still recognizable.
***Not exclusively so, but noticeably so.