Adventureland

Wed, AUG 15, 2024 - 9:03

To all who come to this happy place, welcome. […] Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals, the dreams, […] and the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration to all the world.

On a cool California morning on July 17, 1955, the most ambitious amusement park ever imagined was revealed to the world. Televised on ABC television to an estimated 90 million viewers across America, Walt Disney gave a short and iconic speech before the gates were opened to the public for the first time.

Over succeeding decades the park would change, parts added and removed as trends came and went, but Disneyland’s goals would remain steadfast. It would remain place where visitors could dream and where they could see dreams become reality.

My first visit to Disneyland was in 1997. See the gumpy kid with the camera bag? Yep, that's me.

I first visited Disneyland in 1997 with my family and remember only vague slices of the experience. Memories are far clearer from my next visit with a friend in 2009, when we roadtripped down the east coast from Vancouver to stay overnight at Disneyland Anaheim itself.

I’d been having a bit of a rough time back then and was emerging from a bout of depression which had plagued me since the year before — the first serious case I can remember. But the morning I awoke in Disney’s Grand Californian Hotel and stepped outside onto Main Street, into the warm air and with fingers of dawn sunlight stretching across the charismatic buildings, I was transported away in a way I hadn’t been on my first visit. And not just physically. Exploring ‘Adventureland’ with its thatched roofs, tiki-totems and river cruise, I was captivated by the ambiance and the excitement it stirred in me. In Tomorrowland, I clearly recall stepping from the dark tunnel of Space Mountain and telling my friend that, “I didn’t think I could still be thrilled like that,” then surreptitiously wiping my eyes.

Perhaps that sounds dramatic but, fittingly for that place, it were as if some spell had been broken. I felt human again and it was this experience that made me realise the power of escapism. Of adventure and magic.

Over the course of the day as we explored this imaginary world made real, I was overwhelmed by the effort and attention to detail. Once you step into the park, you never see a seam, with everything from the rides to the ambient music to the plants and trash-cans meticulously designed.

Many don’t seem to notice or appreciate the surroundings there. Some are only there for the rides, others wander about eating their ice-creams, while other still consider themselves above it all and write the place off as ‘tacky’. But to anyone paying attention it’s difficult not to find Walt’s creation astounding.

Watch out for those hippos! Adventureland is immersive and brims with exotic beauty.

To me, the seed was planted. This was what I wanted to do. To thrill and delight and stir emotion in people, just like this place had in me. Disneyland pulls together many disparate ideas and concepts and melds them into a coherent whole on a massive scale, and I realised the whole approach contains lessons galore for writers. It brought home that previously nebulous phrase that “thoughts become things,” and more importantly, it showed the power of immersion and polish when an creating an impactful experience for an audience.

Writers might not have access to hundreds of empty acres to build on or billions in funding, and we might not have the glitz and glamour factor of a video-game or movie, but we don’t need any of that. All we need to transport someone away is words.

The ‘cinema of the mind’ is a powerful thing and — not to channel my inner Bob Procter too heavily — if you can see it all your head, then it’s just one more step to make it real.

In a way, I find it thrilling to imagine that through writing, I’m creating my very own Adventureland for readers to explore.

Jim :)

Flashback: The Lemon Lime Vodcast

Thurs, MAY 23, 2024 - 10:07

Buried deep within the hidden corners of my YouTube channel, a series of deactivated videos sits like an unused bassline, patiently thrumming away as if waiting for a moment to join the song.

It was early 2005 when, armed with a trusty Sony HDR-FX1 (which had no HDR functionality…) and a whimsical sense of optimism, I ventured out into Vancouver's bar and pub scene to film a video-podcast which covered new music, movies, and video games. I didn't expect much from it, but there were very few other 'video weblogs' going around at that time and Apple's new iTunes podcast service was looking distinctly quiet, so I gave it a shot.

I dubbed the project, 'The Lemon Lime Vodcast' and thought the name quite punny and clever, and although a recent article about the bygone 'vodcast' fad boldly proclaims the origin of the word 'short for “Video-On-Demand-cast”' , I actually intended for the word 'vodcast' to do triple duty, combining 'vodka' with 'video' and 'podcast'.

As for the 'LLV' (as it came to be known) itself, it would go on to enjoy two-and-a-half seasons in that many years, and gain some good traction in the early YouTube world, rising to number 32 in the Podfeed.net 'video weblog rankings', just underneath some now retro-classics like 'Tiki Bar TV' (coincidentally also filmed in Vancouver), Diggnation, and Rocketboom.

For the series title sting, 'Siren on the 101' by Silverstrand, I got permission from the band itself and to this day, a little badge sits next to each episode on YouTube: "Copyright-protected content found. The owner allows the content to be used on YouTube."



Filming the show was a blast. It featured various funky bars around Vancouver, in which I hosted the LLV alongside the wonderful (and ever cheerful) Michelle Miazga, with Zach Shore as our cameraman. I was thrilled to work alongside them both and owe them a lot of thanks, as well as friends, bands, bar-owners and the viewers for making the project the success it was. Two-and-a-bit-years after it went live, I was truly sorry to see it come to an end, but other projects (and a full-time job) were taking up my attention.

The LLV videos had been inactive for a long time and when nostalgia beckons, I sometimes take gander at the thumbnails and remnisce about the early days of content creation. Very rarely, I'll get an email from an old viewer who comments on how much fun the show was, or asks if it's ever coming back (the latest of which prompted this post).



It's odd because here I am 20 years later, still technically doing the same thing and still loving it. Sure, the LLV is gone, and Pixorama is different, but the skills I learned on projects like that have been invaluable in my content-creator journey, and I'm still very lucky to be able to bring a smile to viewers' faces.

And what about bringing the LLV back? Well, I know it would be a different story, today. Content creation ain't what it used to be. Still, it goes to show that you never know what kind of impact a little idea might have, and that if you never try, you never will.

Jim :)

Progress Report: This Emerald Crucible

Wed, FEB 28, 2024 - 20:51

It was in February of 2018 — six whole years ago — that I recall wiping my forehead dry and taking my first deep breath of humid jungle air. Cambodia was in the midst of a stifling summer and there I stood, trusty Fujifilm camera in-hand, ducking and picking through some of the world’s most beautiful and enigmatic ancient ruins.

Like so many before me, I was dumbfounded. Angkor Wat is perplexing, to say the least. It’s a sprawling complex whose whole purpose is still unclear, and whose full extent continues to grow with every turn of the archaeologist's spade. Those structures which remain standing are vast and silent, most holding their secrets close. And yet the odd carving seems to scream for attention and rememberance.

It should therefore come as no surprise that I was immediately inspired by the place, and began jotting down notes even before I’d left the site.

The idea was simple. I wanted to extend the world of Aliru — the world I’d created in The Torril City Mysterion — and weave a story that could transmit the feelings of mystery and majesty I’d experienced. The story would take place in steaming ruins and time-worn stones. I couldn’t think of a better vehicle for delivering this excitement and adventure to readers.

With that, This Emerald Crucible was born. And today I’m thrilled to announce that the first draft is finished.

It’s been underway for almost three years and there’s still a long way to go, but already I feel that this new addition to the ‘Aliru Anthology’ is a worthy companion to Torril City. This is not a sequel, nor a prequel. It features different characters in a different time and place, but should the reader pay attention, they might find little sparkles along the way which illuminate a greater whole…

Stay tuned for more announcements. I can’t wait to share This Emerald Crucible with you all very soon.

Jim :)

Come Say Hi

Mon, JAN 29, 2024 - 9:09

It’s summer in Australia, which means it’s time for festivals, fairs, flings, and fun. And one festival which happens on my doorstep just happens to be Midsumma , a month-long celebration of people and love – if you want to get all hippylike.

But for the past three years, my partner and I have also been regulars at another venue on our doorstep. A board-games bar called Boardies on Smith St. in the trendy Melbourne suburb of Fitzroy. It’s become our second living room and we’ve been lucky to forge a good relationship with the staff and owner, while enjoying some funky cocktails and of course, learning a bunch of new boardgames. If you're ever in the area, you have to go visit, it's a treat!

Not only is it a great venue, but a while ago the owner kindly offered to sell my books on his bar, which has been fantastic for me as the clientele is mostly wonderful nerds and fantasy fans. Then, a month ago he added a new twist to the game, by mentioning that Boardies is going to have a table at the Midsumma street festival on February 11, and that I’d be welcome to set up shop there and hawk my wares.

Of course, I was thrilled with the idea and said I’d love to.

So, if you happen to be in Melbourne at the Midsumma festival on Feb 11, 2024, come say hi! The Boardies table will be located in Peel St. on the small park beside Two Birds Café (also a fabulous venue, if you’re after a good brekky and coffee).

A huge shout out and thanks to Craig from Boardies for organising this with the event planners, and I hope to see you there, dear reader!

Jim :)

Am I Detecting Notes Of Cynicism?

Sun, JAN 28, 2024 - 09:52

I sat down to watch Wonka a few nights ago. And while I do have criticism, overall it was a passable addition to the 'Roald Dahl Universe' (yes, that is happening). Sure, the movie leant a bit too heavily on CGI, Timothé Chalamet is not as charismatic as Gene Wilder (though far less creepy than Johnny Depp, so we'll take it) and the plot was predictable — modern cinema seems content to ignore subtext and clever scripting to focus more on visuals, so that’s nothing new — but it was around the third song mark that I started to wonder if the musical genre perhaps needs to take a little masterclass…because we were only 15 minutes in.

To be fair, Wonka contained a few welcome surprises and a sense of oddball creativity that harkened back to the loose-boundaried fantasy films of the 1980s. It also contained a few toe-tappers that are both genuinely chuckleworthy and catchy. The songs, written by a Joby Talbot ( 'Sing'/'Sing 2' ) and Neil Hannon (an Irish singer-songwriter with comedic inclinations) cover some well-trodden terrain. The ‘Oompa Loompa’ song and ‘Pure Imagination’ are examples of this. But it includes a couple of nice new additions, too. ‘Scrub Scrub’ has managed to lodge itself in my brain and slips out in mumbles as I’m doing housework, while ‘You’ve Never Had Chocolate Like This’ is a worthy cheerleader for the film.

The problem is that, like so many films nowadays, the inclusion of musical numbers was at times clunky and at other times unnecessary. In the worst instances, the songs actually took me out of the film. And don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge fan of the musical. But it seems that increasingly, musical filmwriters and their songwriting compatriots are forgetting a golden rule when it comes to characters flexing their voiceboxes.

That rule is simple, and it was explained perfectly by musical theatre addict, Mo Murray:

…characters should speak when the emotion is too great for silence; sing when the emotion is too great for speech; and dance when the emotion is too great for song.

I believe story theorist and screenwriting guru Robert McKee would agree wholeheartedly, and I have long felt the same way. In musicals, songs are not just add-ons. They carry significant narrative weight and often reveal a character's inner thoughts or advance the plot. It's a unique feature of this wonderful genre, allowing a deeper emotional connection with the audience. So if and when a song happens, it must matter.

Even before Disney’s Frozen , when princess Anna blurted out, “…don’t know if I’m elated or gassy, but I’m somewhere in that zone!” and needlessly tossed aside the immense power of song for a cheap poopie-joke (thank you, K. A. and R. Lopez…), I’ve been cautious about new musicals. I was burned badly again by The Greatest Showman, perhaps the biggest misstep in musical history with its overproduced, unjustified, and poorly written songs (wasting the talents of a truly wonderful cast), but that hasn’t been the only film during which I groaned when a character opened their mouth to sing.

Wonka, more tactful than the aforementioned examples, floats just above the tideline where songs are thrown in just to meet the demands of a genre. At times, musically-fitted words tumbled out of characters’ mouths without much cause, yes, and the numbers don't begin smoothly (recall Rodgers & Hammerstein musicals where the audience almost doesn’t notice a song beginning). But I didn’t find myself wincing with trepidation or an air of vicarious embarassment, wondering if I was going to be able to relax or pray for deliverance as the actors tried their best to perform the unperformable.

This is all to say that overall, while I worry about the musical as a genre, I’d recommend Wonka. It was creative enough, fun enough, and will certainly be a hit with kids. I just didn't feel it was anywhere near daring enough. It didn't make me uncomfortable or tickle my nerves as many of Roald Dahl's stories routinely do and as the original Gene Wilder 'sequel' ('prequel?', 'sidequel?') did. And the songs, clearly designed to cater to the masses (no ‘Wonderous Boat Ride’ in this film!), were not always memorable. In general, though, the film manages to hit a sweet note.

Jim :)