Lately, dare I say, I had developed something commonly referred to as a "backbone". Having a "backbone" quickly enabled me to carry on with life and shrug off the random, the groundless, the trivial, and the cliche, without taking such irrelevant things to heart and consequently breaking down like a total and utter ninny.

It appears to be a selective "backbone".

For example-- and I have examined and re-examined this over and over again, since it's more likely that the fault lies with me than elsewhere --I think I am growing to greatly dislike a certain Mr. Bowen Jacobs.

Now. My problem with him is that I believe he is an argumentative, stubborn, unbelieveably nitpicky commentator who rarely listens and insists on having the last word. I get the impression that he comments only to A) assert that his take on my characters is more true than my own, or B) inflate minor flaws or invent flaws where there are none in order to put me down.

However-- it is as common as water for people to become irrationally angry when a creative project that is very tied up in their personal identity is percieved as being under attack. Some writers will bite your head off if you give them simple editing suggestions. Criticism, under such tender circumstances, is often mistaken for attack. A helpful suggestion is twisted into an insulting sneer.

I know very well that Defiance is precious to me. So, I must practice a little restraint, and ask myself... is it nitpicking, or are those flaws really there? Am I, perhaps, expecting a little too much long term memory out of him?

And yet, he still seems so intentionally meanspririted, or at the very least, very patronizing. He seems to automatically assume, for example, that I don't know jack squat about what I'm doing.

"His arm needs to be just a tad longer. The fingers should reach mid-thigh." "Are you aware that they're both left hands? Are they supposed to be that way?" "Don't give him those little-hair strands that poke out over his ears. His nose gets a little crazy in a couple places there."

And of course, there's the wonderful arguments about the Defiance characters not being exactly like whatever he envisioned. Summarized:

Some concept sketches for D'Epargner's dead wife. She was the South General for several years, and then Lewis Malta got the position after her head was mysteriously bashed in. She being dead and all.

"I HATE it when heads get mysteriously bashed in... it's so hard to clean up after!
(ewww... why did I say that? O__o) "

"Anyway, in the top one she doesn't look like the type of person that could be a war-general, running around killing people and such. In the bottom one, she does look like she'd kill someone, but wouldn't enjoy it."

There's more to being a general than mad killing, y'know. Besides... no one in Defiance looks exactly like what they are anyway. Mweheheh.

"Personally, Wesley is the only one that I can see as being a war general. I can EASILY see Flori as being a psycho warrior of death, just because of the 'Bloodsoaked' picture, and I could see him at the head of a screaming army of blood-frenzied warriors, but as to actually strategizing?"

Tsk tsk... Bowen, how often do I have to tell you? No one in Defiance is exactly what they look like! The fact that Powell looks competent should be a hint as to his relative inferiority.

"Um... you've never told me that before. : I'll keep it in mind from now on though, but I'm still scared of Flori."

Au contraire, Bowen-- I have indeed.

"I still think that he's the only one I can see as being a general, and this picture makes me think it even more so."

I take it your idea of a proper general involves being old and having facial hair, then.

"This one looks like a general." "That one doesn't look like a general." Over and over. Thank you, Bowen, but WHY is that point so essential that you have to iterate it all the time? Is there something wrong with characters that don't initially look like what they are? Perhaps I should prance around writing about characters who are exactly what they appear to be on the surface, nothing more and nothing less. No surprises, no interest-- just good old stereotyped fun.

But there, again-- is that what he's really saying?

Chances are likelier that I'm the idiot of this situation.

And Unnamed thinks I'm being-- what else? --ridiculous. Silly. Needlessly worried. I should shrug off this kind of offense like water off a duck's back, whether the offense is real or just a product of my mind.

There may be a point in that.





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