As Andrew Klavan recently said about himself, "I am not a scholar but a storyteller," which informs how I see the world. Most people, I think, perceive the world and history through a storyteller’s lens. Our most enduring tales are simple ones about good and evil, with just enough information to give us a sense of what may have happened. Any writer will tell you, too much detail bogs down the narrative and is distracting.

Keep it simple, stupid. Less is more.

In the United States we are particularly dependent on stories. As a country we have no national, biological heritage. We depend on a creed, and the only way to adopt and understand something so abstract is through illustrative narratives. When we lose the plot, we don’t just lose our identity, we lose our nation. The way we use story goes beyond our own borders and shapes how we understand world and historical events as well, and much of it has been adopted by other cultures as Hollywood films used to be our greatest export. 

But a new generation of incompetent storytellers have taken over.

Two recent news items have really driven this to prominence. First in fiction, the second in fact. The discussion about Disney Star Wars’ The Acolyte has been inescapable. While I’m no fan of Star Wars, it’s undeniably the greatest science fiction franchise in history. George Lucas launched a whole universe where the good guys and bad guys were obvious. The name and title Darth Vader, Sith Lord, just oozes evil. Luke Skywalker, on the other hand, is a name that screams freedom and righteousness. When Lucas was in charge of Star Wars the Jedi were the good guys. In an interview with Bill Moyers around the release The Phantom Menace he described them as like “ultimate father figures or negotiators.” 

Now Star Wars is run by women who hate their fathers.  

The showrunner for The Acolyte, Leslye Headland, told Collider, “I think it’s difficult to do a show that is critical in any way of the Jedi.” Uh oh. She went on, “Like, I think that… people were very nervous about saying this particular institution may not be the light and perfect, stunning group of heroes that are totally nobly intentioned.” It’s worth noting that The Acolyte is set long before George Lucas’s stories, but by setting in the past Headland wants to cast a new, negative, light on everything fans thought they knew, and everything George said that the Jedi are supposed to be.

Maybe the Jedi aren’t the good guys and never were.

Star Wars was a generation defining story of clearcut good and evil, and the recent effort to demythologize it is unfortunate. When our fictional heroes cease to be heroic we have nothing to aspire to. But it is fiction. More concerning is Tucker Carlson and Darryl Cooper’s skewed take on one of Star Wars’ chief influences, that is, the historical battle of good and evil that was World War II, and on Winston Churchill, one its greatest heroes. Before Star Wars, the story of the second World War was our metric for good and evil, and in some ways it still is. 

“Hitler” has become our replacement word for “Satan.” 

Yet Cooper says the Germans were just unprepared for the conflict they started and that gas chambers were an unintended consequence. Uh, no. Genocide was their plan all along, and it’s well documented. Cooper also claims in the interview that Churchill was the “chief villain” of the war, suggesting that war financiers and the media wanted him in power, and that Zionists paid him for his work. It sounds to me like it’s Cooper who is playing to the media and looking for financial gain more than the cantankerous Churchill ever did. 

Churchill, it might be noted, was also a real historian.

Yet here we are, watching as two important stories that have shaped our concepts of good and evil are being systematically disassembled. It’s not just Confederate statues being pulled down, but the memories of great leaders. Is there more nuance in real life than the stories tell? Yes. Again, the good stories are simple and streamlined. Are the bad guys really Satan incarnate, or the good guys more perfect than angels? No. But at the same time, we lose something when try to add too much information, when we tear apart the legends that have given us inspiration for so many years. What does it benefit the average man to see inspiring figures and groups “warts and all”? 

I leave that to the scholars. But I do believe there is room for discernment and sometimes turning a blind eye.

At this point, one must consider the lesson The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

“This is the west, sir. When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” 

Last weekend I was able to attend BasedCon 2024 at an undisclosed location. After missing last year’s event, it was a breath of fresh air. Since it was a nice day and I knew I’d arrive early regardless, I decided to take backroads. My GPS apparently decided I needed to take a very scenic route (not, as I found on my home, the best route). And it was a fun drive.

On the way, I started a very good audiobook on Ronald Reagan.

Almost as soon as I arrived, I fell into a conversation on why you shouldn’t write novels in first person present tense. So if you thought, based on the name, that BasedCon would be nonstop hate speech… well, you might not be too far off the mark. It’s just not the sort of hate speech you thought. Anyway, I saw lots of familiar faces and it was good reconnecting with old friends with whom, thanks to social media, I never really lost touch. A few people I’d hoped to see weren’t able to make it this year.

But such is life.

After dinner there was an opportunity for authors to read from their books. As with any event of this sort, some of the readings received polite applause and others sent us running to the merch table for signed copies of their wonderful work. I hadn’t planned on reading, but for once the readings didn’t go overly long and they opened it up to anyone who was interested. For whatever reason, I decided to break with custom and read from something that isn’t published yet. It seemed to get a good response.

People were asking me all weekend when it will be finished.

The next two days were packed with panel discussions that I won’t try to summarize here. Two of my favorites, however, were titled, “Humorous Science Fiction and Fantasy,” and “Fairy Tales to Fight the Culture War.” Even the “culture war” panel was filled with whimsey, and that’s something which I want to emphasize. The reason BasedCon exists is because the mainstream sci-fi and fantasy space isn’t open to the based-minded and many (if not most) of the speakers have been canceled in one way or another.

If anyone has a right to be angry and bitter, it’s these people.

And yet, I doubt you’d find a happier, more gracious gathering of creatives working in that space anywhere on earth. The freedom to tell the stories they want to tell, the way they want to tell them, is worth more to these men and women than awards and massive audiences. Sure, some of them are gruff, with thick skin, but they wear their battle scars with pride. And if they can do it, maybe those of us who aspire to find some success with our words can weather the same storms should they come.

We can’t fear the storm.

Readers are hungry for good stories that don’t offend their values. Conservative talking heads love to ask, “Why isn't there any conversative art?” and then refuse to acknowledge the enormous library of work available. They have their reasons, none of them defensible. And it’s as annoying as heck. Thankfully, at BasedCon we have the chance to gather and remind ourselves that the talking heads are wrong and just blowing hot air. We are many, and we are not alone. BasedCon is growing every year, and because of it the output of good stories will grow to levels that asking that question will be as inane asking, “Why aren’t there more Starbucks?”

You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting one.

BasedCon isn’t a gathering of outwardly angry people. It’s not an overtly political event. No one leaves feeling outraged or despairing at the state of the culture. Attendees want to tell stories that live and breathe, that live longer than memes, inspire and entertain in ways propaganda cannot. For myself, I came home refreshed and inspired to keep creating, knowing that there is a far larger group of people than I’ll ever fully realize who share many of my values. We may not agree on everything. I know we don't. But we share enough common ground to support one another where it matters. 

Bring on BasedCon 2025!

Most of what I read these days is for professional reasons, so I can’t always talk about it here. Sometimes it’s for another website, and sometimes it’s something that isn’t even out yet. I try to set aside time every day to read, and during the week that’s my work. But especially on the weekends I try to read things for myself. Recently, I went back and re-read the first of The Dresden Files, Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.

Even though there are many other books that I’ve never read before that I want to and intend to read.
Someday.

I’ll never forget back in 2009 when I was exploring a new-to-me library (which was literally right out my backdoor) and noticing Storm Front on a display. It promised something to the effect of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer meets Philip Marlowe” and I was all in. I’d just moved into a garden level studio apartment (like Harry Dresden) and was living by myself (like Harry Dresden).The seasons were changing and the weather was wild (like in the book). I was experiencing a lot of change in my life, everything seemed fresh and new, with a texture that I knew would leave an impression on every memory.

And frankly, the book didn’t seem that great.

It’s a debut novel and, reportedly, the first thing Butcher ever wrote under professional guidance. Everything seemed a little stilted. I finished the novel and didn’t pick up the sequel until some time later. But then I was hooked. I burned through all twelve that were available at the time in a matter of months. By book four it’s pretty much agreed Butcher finds his voice and the series gets really good. Over the years, I’ve re-read all of the books at least once (except the most recent) and listened to many of them at random.

So I guess you’d say I’m a fan.

Storm Front introduces us to a wizard named Harry, but this one is all American made. He wears cowboy boots and a duster (but never a hat), has a temper and a libido, both of which get him in trouble. Being a private detective/wizard doesn’t really pay the bills in Chicago, so he also works as a “psychic” consultant to the local PD’s division, headed by Karen Murphy, that deals with the weird. Harry’s first case centers around some gruesome murders, a missing husband, drug dealing mobsters, and builds out his world.

The magic system is intention based, not pretty colors and metals (like some authors write).

Over the next three or four books Butcher does a better of job making the magic feel more organic and his characters less one-note (looking at you, Murph). And it’s the characters more than anything that keep me coming back to this series. Stay away too long and I start missing them like old friends. Good characters, more than spectacular action, sex, or magic (or, in the case of this book, sex magic), are what audiences want. 

Writing good characters has become a lost art in the mainstream.

Everyone in Butcher’s world has a moral framework within which they live and work. It may not be mine, I may violently disagree with their logic, but I understand it. So as I spend time with them I know what to expect, and when they justify doing something out of character it’s a cause for concern. And at no point does Butcher expect his characters convictions to become ours. There’s no preaching. We’re allowed to simply observe and weigh the consequences for ourselves.

That too has become a lost art.

So I’m sure that I’ll keep revisiting The Dresden Files for a long, long time. Reading them hasn’t just been entertaining, but also instructive. Now I write characters, even point of view characters, with whom I don’t agree. It’s good practice for interacting with people in real life, makes for better stories, and prevents me from underwriting the imaginary people I hope will become my readers’ friends.