In Review: A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Nine

Greetings, fellow user of the internet. I hope you had a good Thanksgiving (assuming you celebrate such) and were able to rest a bit this weekend. My employer was kind enough to grant me both Thursday and Friday off, so I’m feeling extra good myself. Back when I was a security guard or a grocery store bag-boy, I grew to dread the holidays, with the latter job being especially terrifying. It’s a nice change to be able to relax when the world is so grey and mellow.

But that’s enough of musing about life from me. Chapter Nine was quite eventful, and I know I’ve got a lot to say. I fully expect this to be one of my biggest reviews yet, so buckle in, strap on, and let’s get down and dirty.

The chapter opens up with a fairly clean continuation of where we left off. Lior threw his little tantrum, went to bed, and now he’s starting a new day. Malka’s still working—a reminder of her bizarre sleep and work patterns—and Lior doesn’t have anything in particular to do.

So, he begins using a technique I found rather useful when I set off on the path of writing.

Creative blockages are the bane of artists everywhere. No matter your craft, no matter how fervent you are about your craft, you’re almost guaranteed to encounter a block at some point. You sit down, eager to create, yet nothing comes to you. You try to force it for a bit, but it’s all wrong and you hate it. So what do you do?

Everyone’s got their strategies. Some simply step away and take a break, others switch to a different project, and the truly hardcore just power through. I mostly lean towards stepping away and relaxing, but back when I was just seeking to practice and improve my skills, I’d sometimes take a prompt I’d jotted down and just run with it.

Though perhaps it’s more correct to say I’d shit all over the pages with whatever garbage came to mind.

Basically, I’d forsake quality and just let the thoughts spill out. Like Lior puts it, you become the tool that lets your project create itself. Whether it’s any good doesn’t matter—the point is just to get yourself moving. If what you create is utter trash, you’ll then be able to look back on it and think, “Man, I can do way better than this!” And if it’s good, well, you’ve just made another piece to be proud of. Congrats, my dude!

I kind of think of it as using creative Drain-O. It breaks up whatever’s clogging your brain pipes and helps you get your flow back. I doubt this technique works for everyone, but hey, if you’re feeling backed up again, maybe give it a try. You might end up finding a new drive you didn’t realize you had.

Whew… quite a bit from just one paragraph in the story, eh? Well, A Fool’s Goddess is partially based on my experiences in growing as a writer. I love acting like I know what I’m talking about, so I couldn’t help but share my techniques. Please forgive me.

Moving on, we then have the odd occurrence of Master Malka initiating the conversation. Lior tries to skate around the issue by talking about the impending war, a lie that clearly doesn’t work on Malka. In hindsight, I wish I was a bit more playful with my paragraph structure in this section, but it is what it is and I can settle on knowing I’d do better now. Live and Learn, right?

And then… we get into the parts that still make me cry.

Time for some more unwarranted honesty: I’m the sort of guy who cries pretty easily when he’s engaged in a story. One my earliest experiences was bawling my eyes out in elementary school after reading a Catwings book, and I haven’t gotten any better since then. A Silent Voice still makes me cry every time, and I recently got wet-faced over just the opening to Dragon Quest XI.

Not very manly, huh? My dad always hated that about me, but that’s his problem, not mine. I’m a guy who’ll cry at the drop of a hat, and I’m sure you’ve got your own nuances. Let’s get along, alright?

Anyways, I’m also extra-sensitive to my own stories as they’re obviously quite personal to me, so I’m getting all teary-eyed right now just from reading over Chapter Nine again. I’ve already stated how much I adore Master Malka, so getting to show her sweetness just melts my heart.

Going back to how Malka is based on my dear mentor, Boss, it’s probably pretty clear why I had her display a maternal side. Particularly, Boss said something quite similar to Malka’s “You’re not someone I can replace.” I think I had made some joke about our employer getting rid of me after I made a dumbass mistake, to which she scolded me for discrediting myself. We were surrounded by other guards in the office, so I was able to remain professional and not become an emotional mess, but her words stuck with me all the same.

Malka’s actions after that are what I felt her character would do. She struck me as the sort who would understand that a gentle embrace is more powerful than a thousand words, so she places Lior in that endearing hug. Anyone who’s ever been in a situation where something is devouring you from the inside knows just how comforting the touch of another can be, and Lior becomes like his writer in failing to remain presentable.

Frankly, I’d say that little scene aptly showcases everything I love about humanity. When an empathetic soul encounters someone in pain, it presents something uniquely beautiful, yet inherent to us all.

How absolutely splendid.

After that tender moment, the two try to talk it out. Lior isn’t quite ready, but Malka—being the angel she is—accepts this and backs off. They derail a bit back into chatting about leaving the country, ending with a bit of macabre humor. They’re then interrupted by a sudden visitor, so Lior detours to that goddamn second-floor restroom that shouldn’t exist.

When he returns, we find a man who is clearly not Chen delivering the freighting goods. A bit of awkward conversation, then we’re presented with a discomforting deduction.

The man is lying about working for the freighters.

Things then fall apart rather quickly. The man turns violent, and Malka attempts to take him down—only to get bashed upside the head. Lior then flies into a rage, stabs the man in the eye, and is promptly defeated as well. We’re given some ambiguity on unseen events, but then our protagonist passes out before we can get any clarification.

And thus ends Chapter Nine.

Now, let’s address what I’d assume would be the biggest question directed at me at this point: if I love Malka so much, why did I just have some random asshole assault her?

The answer is simple: because catastrophes can happen without warning or reason. Or in the words of my idol, Mr. Uchikoshi Kotaro, “Life is simply unfair, don’t you think?”

Malka’s reaction of fight over flight is based on Boss as well. When our team was going through armed gunman training, Boss told me that if it came down to it, she would do what it took to stall a gunman while the rest of us got to safety. I don’t know if it was her age or pride or what, but there was something fiercely intimidating about a stout, middle-aged woman telling a room full of burly men that she’d play decoy should the worst occur. Even if it was just a front, it was more than enough to solidify that Boss was a woman to be feared.

Now, it could be said that what happens to Malka is a combination of that worldly cynicism expressed by Mr. Uchikoshi and my admiration for Boss’ bravado. Obviously, I’d want Boss to be safe, or at least manage to overcome any potential attackers. But life is rarely so kind, so instead of our beloved sculptors defeating the intruder, Malka suffers the likely result of anyone charging at an armed man.

Meanwhile, Lior mimics my cowardice in balking away from the danger. I’d like to think I was reasonable in planning to run if I saw an armed gunman (I’m not about to die for a $15/hour job, c’mon…), but when your leader expresses such courage, you can’t help but feel like marching into hell alongside them.

Thus, after witnessing Malka’s determination, Lior is then filled with indignant rage and moves to attack. I doubt I’d have the courage to do something like that, but then again, I’ve never witnessed someone assaulting a loved one. He manages to get a clean strike in thanks to Malka, only to get brained himself. As his consciousness leaves him, we hear some awful sounds—blanks I’m sure you can easily fill in.

For whatever reason, I do love describing atrocious acts. More on that next time.

You may also notice the language for this chapter becomes appropriately abrasive in the later sections. I prefer to write without censor as I tend to curse a lot myself, and it’s only reasonable for someone’s language to turn as foul as the events around them. I enjoy writing my characters with differing preferences for cursing, so it’s a lot of fun to shift their word choice with the atmosphere.

I’d also like to touch on the chapter’s structure a tad. At one point, I planned to break this into two chapters—one that focused on Malka’s empathy and another that only contained the attack. I ended up keeping them together for two reasons: chiefly, there wasn’t enough content to warrant breaking them apart, but also because I liked the juxtaposition of delicate emotions laid next to raw violence. Spirit Circle does this quite well at times, and I encourage giving it a read if manga interests you.

There’s just something so intriguing to me about tales that show a sort of fantasy or follow a fairly mellow tale, only to break your illusion with an unforeseen depiction of brutality. I think it’s because it’s a perfect allegory for life: a happy little bubble of existence that is inevitably broken by the cold hand of reality. The people we love can die without warning and your peaceful life can suddenly fall apart with one accident.

Truly unfair.

But that is also what makes hope so wondrous. For most of us, our determination is born from innocence and yearning. Yet there are also those who have been beaten time and again, only to keep pushing onward. Whether it’s out of stubborn pride or higher purpose, it does not reduce their nobility. Only the most elegant of beasts would persist in the face of unrelenting opposition.

…Yech, I probably shouldn’t try to wax poetic. I think I’m better at pseudo-philosophy and character drama, so let’s stick to that.

Okay, I think that about covers everything. I’ve got more to talk about in regards to violence and Malka, but it’s better if I save that for next time. I’ve rambled enough as it is, just as promised. This chapter was a lot of fun to dissect, and considering I’ve been under a bit of writer’s block myself recently, I’m feeling pretty refreshed now, even with all the crying.

Makes me feel like attacking my next project with even more gusto. Granted, I’m still in the planning phase—character sheets, specifically—but my juices are flowing pretty good right now. Just gotta dump some caffeine down my throat and I’ll probably write until I regret it the next morning.

Well then, that’s all for now. Hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend, and don’t do anything too stupid.

Wouldn’t want the Master Malka in your life to find out, right?

Paix et amour, mon ami.