Sunday 28 June 2015

What it means to be a gay character in fiction.

Our world has come a long way fast when it comes to LGBT rights. The landmark ruling just the other day in the USA is proof of that. In the so called 'Western World', more countries now allow gay marriage than those that don't. Hopefully countries like Australia catch up soon.

But one aspect that seems to be falling behind is the representation of gay characters in fantasy and science fiction. Very rarely are characters anything but heterosexual, and this is curious to me. Why is it, when a massive proportion of the world's population is willing to accept LGBT people, do we see a gaping void in fiction where the LGBT folk should be?

To be sure, there have been exceptions to this. Mercedes Lackey for one featured a number of gay characters, but sadly these usually fell into the trope of cliché and stereotype. In fact, this seems to be the norm for what few gay characters make it - they are cliché-driven stereotypes that only seem to be there to flaunt their own gayness or to make some sort of unsubtle point about the state of the world. From sassy best friends, to the inexplicably fashion conscious, to the tragic angst, every LGBT character is a caricature of themselves. Rarely the focus point of attention, the LGBT characters are there to stand on the sidelines, to cheer on the main characters and to act as a little checkbox for the author to tick on their 'minorities list'. Are we not long past the time where this should be so?

Another example of how LGBT characters are treated has come from one of the most successful book franchises of all time - Harry Potter. After the final book was released, J.K. Rowling came out on behalf of Albus Dumbledore. The great wizard was gay, and had been romantically involved with another wizard many years ago. While I respect Rowling, and adore her as an author, I can't help but wonder why this was never included in the books, and had to be announced after Deathly Hallows was released. Was she afraid readers wouldn't accept her creation as he was truly meant to be? I would like to think that Dumbledore's coming out would have helped change things in speculative fiction particularly, but I have yet to really see that.

From what I've read, I think the most natural portrayal of gay characters has come from the amazing Robin Hobb. There are LGBT characters scattered throughout her books, and they all feel quite natural. They are all varied with their own personalities, and don't fall too far into cliché. Yes, there are some gay characters who are fashion conscious, but I would argue this is more because they are noble born, rather than gay, The Fool is a particularly wonderful example of an LGBT character. Fool is a gender-ambiguous being with varying preferences and desires, and to my recollection it is never explicitly revealed who or what he/she is.

It is by taking example of Robin Hobb that I have tried to portray my LGBT characters: as natural, real parts of the world in which they live.

*Warning - some spoilers ahead for Destiny of Dragons and Reborn*

In Reborn, I created the race of starats - artificially created to be a slave race to humanity. Every last one of them is bisexual, and completely accepting of this in a time that has fallen back under religious control and conservatism. After Rhys' teleporter incident, he struggles to come to terms with bisexuality with his new starat body and mind. It doesn't play a major role in the story, but with two potential romantic leads at the end of the first book, I've left room to explore this much further in the rest of the series. Both Steph and Elijah will be able to play for Rhys' affections.

In the world of Reborn I like to think I have created a reasonable situation in which society has regressed from a lot of social rights we now expect. Gay marriage does not exist in this time, and LGBTs are barely tolerated at all under the new Catholic order. Starats, being free from the church, are not bound by the same morals and live much like we do today.

In Farenar, a whole different situation applies of course. In the Destiny of Dragons series to date, there hasn't been explicitly a gay character, but I have left large hints that one of the major characters is gay. This is properly revealed in the third book, but for those who are unwilling to wait that long, I can confirm that Azlak is gay. I deliberately underplayed this facet of his character because at no point was it relevant to reveal. Shy, quiet, and often ignored, Azlak had never had the opportunity to explore his sexuality until he started to gain the attention and respect of other dragons. Even though the reader got the chance to explore his mind, he never thought of it as he knew he would never get a mate. He could never See that future for himself, but in a rare moment of empathy for my characters, I have given him some happiness in book three (Azlak is my favourite character after all).


The reason I'm putting this all down is because I'd like to see a shift in the way gay characters are portrayed. The world has made huge steps recently. Small pockets of sub-genres have moved forward, but as a whole science fiction and fantasy has been lagging behind.

I would be proud to be at the forefront of that change.

Thursday 19 March 2015

Ursa Major Awards

A quick update on some latest news:

Impossible Magic is a finalist in the Ursa Major Awards! I'm utterly thrilled about getting this far - winning it would be beyond belief!
Voting is open to absolutely everyone, and can be done here: http://www.ursamajorawards.org/voting2014/
There's some very worthwhile candidates in many of the categories, so do give it a browse!

To celebrate Impossible Magic making it this far, I've decided to put Axinstone on special. Folks in the US can pick it up on Amazon for just US$0.99! That's right, just 99 cents!
There's never been a better time to pick up all the dragons you could ever want for less than a dollar!

So please feel free to pick up a copy and vote for Impossible Magic. You will have my undying love if you do so.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HKHPN4E

End shameless self promotion.

Wednesday 18 February 2015

A Short Review: The Great Zoo of China, Matthew Reilly


Rating- 3.5/5

I have always heard a lot about Matthew Reilly, but I'd never before read one of his books. I was never going to pass on an opportunity to read a book like this though.
In the most TL;DR form I could possibly say, The Great Zoo of China is Jurassic Park with dragons. That is all you really need to know about this book.
But to elaborate slightly:
In terms of action: riveting. The book is running at a constantly high pace - there is always something happening. Usually multiple things. There really aren't many natural points to put the book down and take a break. The chapters are short and snappy, adding to this.
This certainly helped the book, as it also allows some of the flaws to be brushed over. The biggest flaw I can highlight is the use of deus ex machina. At too many points in the story are the heroes about to meet their demise when something rescues them from out of the blue - be it human allies, human enemies, or unwitting dragons just looking for something to chew on. This happens multiple times, and it does start to get grating towards the end.

Still, I certainly recommend this read to anyone who sat through and enjoyed Jurassic Park (books or film - the first one!), and dragons.

All in all, a good read.

Saturday 31 January 2015

O Smaug the Chiefest and greatest of Calamities.

After being asked on Twitter for my thoughts on the movie interpretation of Smaug, I decided that 140 characters was far too small for my thoughts on the matter. Good job I have this blog then, where I can ramble on about Smaug, a dragon who had far too short a screen time in over 9 hours worth of Hobbity goodness.

A fair warning, there will be spoilers. But if you haven't read a 78 year old masterpiece, then something is seriously wrong with you.

Another disclaimer: I adore The Hobbit and LotR.

So, on with the show!

Creating a dragon for film isn't an easy process. Sadly Hollywood is seriously lacking in dragons of great acting potential, so producers usually have to resort to special effects to create these noble creatures. Naturally, this leads to all sorts of problems than must be overcome. These include, but are not limited to, design, CGI quality, voice acting, character, and so on.

First up for The Hobbit, I'll talk about the quality of the CGI.
Here is where I think The Hobbit gets it absolutely right. Weta Studios have been producing some incredible creature effects for quite a few years now, and the work they did on Smaug was immaculate. It had taken nearly twenty years, but in Smaug I believe there was a dragon that was better animated than Draco (DragonHeart). Saphira (Eragon) came close, but ultimately that travesty of a movie dragged her down a few notches.
Smaug looks and feels like a real creature. He lives in the world created by the filmmakers, and isn't just a floating green ball for the actors to vaguely stare at. Though the thought of Cumberbatch in that skin-tight motion capture suit is alright by me. More on Cumberbatch later.

Related to the look of Smaug, is his design. Now, here is where I was a little disappointed. Movie Smaug was noticeably different to Book Smaug in a number of ways. Most importantly, in my opinion, is that Movie Smaug is not a True Dragon. True Dragons are six limbed - two wings and four legs. Movie Smaug is only four limbed, classifying him as a wyvern. This appears to be a late change from the filmmakers, as his forelegs are actually shown in the opening of the first film.


This was changed in the Extended Version of the same film. Notice how the claws are now clearly part of his wing.



We can talk about the hows and whys of the change until the cows come home, but the fact of the matter is they changed Smaug from a True Dragon to a Wyvern at some point late in production. Is this a bad thing? Eh, depends on who you ask really. Tolkien purists would of course be disappointed that such an iconic character was altered, but there was talk that a four limbed reptile is more scientifically plausible than a six limbed one. The back and forths would take forever to resolve, so I'll just say that I would have preferred a six-limbed Smaug, but he looks so awesome because of Weta's work that I am willing to overlook it.
One last thing on his design: Smaug's firebreathing.


The way his whole body lights up when he's about to incinerate his foes is pretty damn awesome visually. Practically though? He is after all giving his prey those few extra seconds to escape by this, which does save Bilbo's bacon on at least one occasion.


So, Smaug looks amazing thanks to Weta. A few small disappointments on design choices, but these can be overlooked. Next, we have to look at his character, and that comes down to two things. Script and actor.
First, the actor.
Cumberbatch nails it. Without a shadow of a doubt.
There isn't really much more to say here, other than the fact I don't believe any other actor could have so brilliantly portrayed Smaug. Certainly the best dragon voice since Sean Connery gave his voice to Draco. It has everything: intelligence, wit, power. Everything Smaug needs and deserves.

Finally, script.
Even with the best voice actor, the best CGI work, the best design, he would still fail as a character if the script was poor.
Here we meet mixed success.
On the one hand, his lines were basically perfect. Cumberbatch had some incredible material to work with. Both the original lines from the book and the new lines written for the movie were consistently accurate with his character. Everything from his first line to his last was amazing.
Where it started to all fall down was his actions. There were times when he came across as bumbling and clumsy, something I doubt the Book Smaug ever was. Case in point, when he's flailing around in the forges. He also failed to hear the dwarves at one point as they crept beneath him, despite already showing incredible senses to find Bilbo while he wore his ring (and smelling dwarf on Bilbo, yet being unable to smell them when they were barely a dozen feet from his nose).
I would also gripe about Smaug dying like all dragons do in film now, but I never really expected them to deviate from the books quite that much! I just would have preferred a lot more of Smaug in Five Armies, as he was dead in fifteen minutes.


So, overall, I thought Smaug was a brilliantly crafted dragon.
Yes, there were flaws in his design, as well as some elements of his characterisation thanks to the script direction, but these can all be overlooked. They are ultimately minor flaws in what is certainly one of the most recognisable dragons in literature.

No longer do we have to look at a 20 year old film on how to do dragons right.

Wednesday 21 January 2015

Dragonslayer

Next year I will be releasing Wolf's Curse, which is set in Aegia; east of the dragon territories and Kernow, where Destiny of Dragons takes place.
To introduce you to this ancient kingdom, I wrote Dragonslayer. This is largely unedited, and not intended to be 'good' in any way, but to to introduce you to this new part of Farenar.

I hope you enjoy.

________________________


The road from Meanvr was almost deserted, with just one lone figure and his horse travelling west on the banks of Dark River. The water was as black as its name suggested, throwing up not a single reflection despite the sun’s bright light shining down upon its surface. Somehow life still dwelt within the black water. Fish occasionally broke the surface, only to be swooped upon by opportunistic kingfishers.
Upriver was the small village of Hyven, a tiny outpost about halfway between the distant cities of Meanvr and Tsona. The coming of the lone man had already been noticed. The charred wooden gates were thrown open, and half a dozen armed guards stood on the side of the road, their pikes raised to the sky. A guard of honour for the approaching hero.
Anton regarded this all with bright eyes, wrapping his horse’s reigns tighter between his fingers. The old mare had a habit of bolting around strangers. He didn’t want a scene like the one at the Meanvr markets.
Chuckling slightly at the memory, Anton watched as the captain of the guard strode out from the village walls. They met where the narrow trail that led to the village splintered away from the main road. “Your sword is most welcome here, Knight of Aegia,” the captain said in greeting.
“Is your mayor ready to see me?” Anton said brusquely.
“He is, my lord. He is in the village hall.”
“Good. Take me there please, and find someone to stable old Greta here. She could use a rest and some food,” Anton replied. He looked up to the sky, but there was no sign of the menace that had drawn his presence. The air was quiet and still, with barely even a bird soaring overhead. The metallic ring of a blacksmith’s hammer rang out through the air, drowning out the distant sound of cattle and other livestock.
Anton passed Greta’s reigns over to a guard as he passed the wooden walls that surrounded the village. The walls bore the scars of the recent conflicts that had plagued Hyven. Here and there the wood had been charred and scorched, in some places whole planks of wood were missing. Remarkably, the damage seemed restricted to the outer walls only. Not a single building within had been touched by the flames.
The village hall was easy to find, being the largest building right in the centre of the village. The cobbled piazza that surrounded the hall was full as what seemed like most of the village had turned up to witness the arrival of this legendary hero. Unlike the usual celebrations that normally heralded Anton’s arrival, Hyven was taken by a nervous silence. Only a few haggard cries and isolated outbreaks of applause followed him.
Inside the village hall was the large audience chamber, where the mayor and his aides were waiting for Anton. Dressed in the traditional red velvet robe of the Aegian landowners, the mayor of Hyven rose to greet his guest.
“Welcome, Anton, the greatest dragon slayer east of the Snowcaps,” the mayor cried, spreading his arms wide.
Anton blanched and stumbled. “I’m sorry? Did you call me dragon’s layer?”
The mayor spluttered, almost falling from his stand in shock. “Why, no, good sir. Dragon slayer, is that not what you are?” he replied, putting particular emphasis on his words.
“Slayer, right, yes.” Anton cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders back. “That is why I have come. Shall we discuss the terms of my services, and then you can point me in the direction of the beast?”
The mayor quickly recovered his composure as he offered Anton forty gold aurels and two barrels of the village’s finest wine, with half to be paid once the dragon was killed. It was a rich sum for such a small village. Their need was great indeed if they were willing to make such an offer. Anton didn’t even attempt to negotiate the fee upwards, accepting the deal with barely a moment of thought.
As a contract was written up detailing the accepted terms, the mayor came down from his raised dais and shook Anton’s hand. “We are glad you managed to make it here so soon,” he said, losing much of his formality and pomp as he guided the dragonslayer back outside. “Ever since the dragon came our village has ground to a halt. No one uses the main road anymore. If someone wants to get from Meanvr to Alanat they’ll take the road to Tsona, adding several days to their journey. There is no trade anymore, and with no trade we have no money coming in to the village. We had no choice but to turn to a slayer.”
“This dragon will be gone in a week, I can promise you that.”
“I hope you’re right. You’re our last hope.”
“I have never failed before. I don’t intend on starting that now.”
***
For what remained of the afternoon, Anton lingered around the village, waiting for the dragon to show itself. Though there were some muttered protests that he wasn’t making any progress in slaying the beast, these whispers quickly stopped once he explained his logic. It was better for the dragon to come to them, rather than risk being ambushed by hunting for its lair.
That night he stayed in a room above the small tavern, his bed and meals provided for at no cost. The tavern was deserted, not even the barroom had any patrons. The rest of the village stayed within their homes, cowed by the presence of the dragon. He shared several stories with Ivar the tavernkeeper, keeping a guarded tongue as he told of his past exploits. He didn’t want just anyone learning his most precious secrets after all.
His room was rustic and basic, but after several weeks of travelling on the road it felt luxurious to Anton. He revelled in being able to soak in a tub of hot water for a while, letting the exertions of his travels fade away. This village had already made him rich. It would be a simple matter to collect the remainder of his fee.
Anton rose with the sun the next morning. Ivar was already awake by the time he descended into the barroom, looking so alert Anton wasn’t even sure he had slept. A quick fried breakfast was provided, before the slayer emerged into the village. Few were awake, but the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the village square. It was a pleasing aroma, and Anton knew he would need to visit the little bakery later, but for now he had work to do.
He spent most of the morning patrolling the village walls, keeping his eyes focussed on the miles of farmland and wilderness that stretched out in every direction. Partly he hunted for signs of the dragon, but he also studied the lay of the land, learning the location of every contour and ridge. A small forest to the east interested him greatly. He could use that to his advantage.
The dragon, he was told, usually flew over once a week. Normally it didn’t bother too much with the village, just giving a few swoops and deafening roars, and instead preferring to chase down any brave travellers on the road. Only an ill-advised volley of arrows had drawn the dragon’s wrath last time it had passed by. If this was right, then the dragon should show itself again the next day.
The mayor threw a festival that evening, celebrating what was surely to be the end of the months-long reign of terror from the dragon. It was not a huge gathering, with only about two dozen people descending upon the village hall, but it was a merry feast. Though many drinks were thrust in his hands, Anton refused them all. He would need his wits about him if he were to succeed in his plan, and a hangover was not the way to go. Instead he watched the villagers dance from the shadows, staying close to the food-laden tables.
“You aren’t from around here, are you?”
Yet another woman held out a drink for Anton, which he politely took but never once raised to his lips. “How could you tell?”
The woman smoothed her skirt before taking the spare seat next to Anton. “I have travelled, you know. I can recognise an Alvanan accent, especially one as strong as yours.”
“I have lived in Aegia for most of my life, but you’re right, I was born in Tembul.” Anton was impressed with this woman. While it was true his enunciation was often considered posh by Aegian standards, it was usually dismissed as being the result of a wealthy upbringing. This woman, whose name he was to learn was Arianne, had heard what most others were too ignorant to realise.
The usual questions quickly followed; why had he come this far from his homeland, and did he prefer life in Aegia? Anton’s answers were evasive, not wanting to reveal too much about his past, but Arianne was satisfied when he said he stayed in Aegia for the adventure his profession gave him. That, and love. Given his job it was tough, knowing that his love was out there alone, but he coped. The time they spent together made it all worthwhile.
Anton smirked as the group of young women that had been lingering around him started to disperse at the realisation that he was spoken for. There had been a time when barroom flings had been a perk of such a glamourous profession like a dragonslayer, but those days were behind him now.
Gradually the evening petered out, and after a few drunken speeches from the mayor, Anton returned to the tavern. The moon was full, and from somewhere over the moors, a wolf howled. Now there was a job he was glad he didn’t have. Keeping werewolves away from the villages and towns was none of his concern. Only the brave and foolhardy stood up to a werewolf.
Anton paused before pushing open the tavern door, the back of his neck prickling as though he was being watched. Slowly he glanced back to the alley between the bakery and butchery. Something moved in the shadows there. His hand moved to his sword.
The figure stepped out into the light. Anton relaxed when he saw the rust-red fur of an ailur, one of the bestial creatures that lived to the far south-east of Aegia. It was rare that any came this far north, and they were usually only employed as messengers. Aegians tended to distrust them, but Anton felt no fear as the creature beckoned to him. This one was familiar to him.
The ailur’s black eyes were wide as he slowly crept forward, his long fluffy tail twitching behind him. He nervously pawed at the white markings on his face, his nose twitching at all the unfamiliar scents. “Deryn sent me,” he whispered, flinching at the sound of a door closing. “She said she’s ready.”
Anton nodded, patting the ailur on the shoulder. “Good. I thought she might be. Go back and stay safe with her, and I’ll catch up with you when I can.”
The ailur squeaked out an affirmation in his native language before scurrying back into the shadows. Anton waited for a few moments until he could no longer hear the messenger’s gentle footfalls. Ailur typically went without shoes, their feet were ill-adapted to the human concept of footwear.
Once he was sure the ailur had made it out the village safely, Anton return to his room. He would need a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was when the real work would begin.
***
The next day was as perfect a day for dragonslaying that Anton could ask for. The sky was completely clear, and there was barely a breeze to speak of. There would be nowhere for the dragon to hide in the air. As he stood on the main road with Greta by his side, Anton looked back towards Hyven. The villagers had ignored his request for them all to stay within the safety of the walls. That could make things more difficult, but he could improvise.
Ulric, the captain of the guard, had come forward to stand with the dragonslayer. In silence they waited. Several times Anton resisted the urge to look through Greta’s packs to ensure that he had everything he needed. He knew it was all there, but the tension was starting to get to him. He wasn’t used to such an audience.
After an hour of waiting the first roar could be heard. The dragon came into view a few moments later, appearing from behind the hills in the west.
“She’s a female,” Anton cried out, marvelling at the copper scales of the dragon as she flew overhead. “Note the lack of horns, and the streamlined, slender body. Males are more thickset, more powerful but slower and less agile in flight.”
“I don’t care much about identifying the creature. It’s a menace, and deserves to die. Male or female doesn’t bother me,” Ulric replied tersely. He had raised his sword as though in futile defiance to the dragon as she started to circle over Hyven.
Anton continued to study the dragon. He estimated her to be about thirteen feet in height, with a wingspan of at least three times that. Her colouring was primarily copper, but he could also see some darker stripes along her back.
“How do you intend on killing it? Magic?” Ulric asked, tearing Anton’s attention away from the dragon.
“With this,” he replied, pulling his bow from Greta’s back. He carefully selected a single arrow from his quiver, ignoring the incredulous look that was spreading across Ulric’s face.
“We have fired hundreds of arrows at the beast. Its scale is too tough to pierce,” the captain of the guard said.
“But you didn’t have this arrow. It’s enchanted. Now excuse me, I don’t want to miss this shot,” Anton said, notching arrow to bowstring. He watched the dragon. She seemed content to just circle around the village, occasionally flying as far out as the small forest that encroached towards the main road and Dark River in the east. Perfect. If the dragon fell there the trees would prevent her from taking to wing again.
Waiting for the perfect moment, Anton unleashed his arrow. He lost the small shaft into the sun, but the dragon’s shriek told him all he had to know. He had found his mark.
The dragon plummeted to the ground, smashing through the trees with a deafening crash. She did not rise again.
“Did… did you kill it?” Ulric asked in a hushed whisper.
“I’m going to find out. Stay here with Greta. Do not let anyone approach.”
Handing the captain of the guard his bow, Anton stalked off towards the forest, his sword raised in front of him. A downed dragon was just as dangerous as a flying one. Tooth and claw were every bit as deadly as flame.
***
The mayor and a few other brave souls joined Ulric in his vigil with Greta. The horse, thoroughly unconcerned by everything around her, had taken to eating the lush grass around her hooves.
“Is the creature dead?” the mayor asked.
A horrific shriek erupted from the forest, sending bird and beast scattering from the trees. The mayor blanched, and everyone but him and Ulric fled to the village at the sound. Only the horse showed an incredible indifference to the dragon’s roars.
“If the slayer fails…” Ulric said, but his words died in his throat. He knew well enough that Hyven would not survive if the dragon was not killed now.
Trees shook as the dragon roared one last time, a pained noise that was suddenly cut off. The silence that followed was agonising to both men. They waited… and waited… and waited.
Anton emerged from the trees, staggering forward and using his sword for balance. His leather armour was coated in red.
Ulric rushed forward, the mayor close on his heels and showing good fortitude for a politician more used to sitting behind desks than physical activity. They were stopped at the forest’s edge by a sharp word from the dragonslayer.
“Don’t go in there.”
“Why not? I wish to see the dragon defeated,” the mayor demanded, trying to push past the slayer, but Anton held his sword out to block him.
“A dragon lies dead within these trees. Her blood spills over the ground. A curse has fallen upon this forest. None should enter for… a year should be safe,” Anton warned. The mayor immediately backed away, staring at the branches of the nearest tree as though fearing it would reach out and grab him.
Anton spread his arms wide. “But come, now is the time for another celebration, is it not? Hyven is freed from the dragon’s wrath. You can live free of fear again.”
***
The celebrations ran until the small hours of the morning. This time there was no fear amongst the villagers of Hyven, and only the young children remained behind in their homes. Drink and food were plentiful once again. The frivolous nature of the evening wasn’t even diminished by the realisation that the cause of their celebration was missing. Anton the dragonslayer hadn’t been seen since he had claimed the remainder of his prize. Though many drinks were raised in his honour, no one thought to go searching for him. He had probably already moved on, the common excuse was. On his way to his next dragon to slay.
***
It was easy to slink out of the village unseen. Anton didn’t look back once as he led Greta out towards the main road. The poor horse was laden with the two barrels of wine he had won for his services, as well as his normal equipment, but she bore it all without complaint. The moon lit their way, the distant howl of wolves the only concern, but even the werewolves wouldn’t dare approach him now.
“Karrax? Karrax, are you there?” he called out as he approached the small forest.
The ailur poked his furred head out from the foliage. “Here, my master. Deryn is waiting for you. She grows a little impatient.”
Leaving Greta in the capable hands of Karrax, Anton cautiously picked his way through the thick trees, towards the clearing in the middle of the forest. Deryn was there, waiting for him.
“Did the plan work, my love?” the copper dragoness asked, a sly grin spreading across her scaled muzzle.

Anton raised the bulging sack of gold tied securely to his hip. “It worked perfectly.”

Tuesday 20 January 2015

A New Start

This year I want to make the commitment to blogging on a semi-regular basis at least, so I thought I'd create a proper page here, rather than using the weebly version (which is rather sub-standard really).

Expect dragons.
Expect writing.
Expect long periods of silence.

Will get the ball rolling properly with my next post.