I’ve discovered a new addiction, and it’s delightfully awful.
I have a long history of loving awful things. One of my favorite ways to spend time with my best friend in high school was to hang out at her house watching Army of Darkness. A few years ago, I had the time of my life spending a weekend sprawled out on my bed, reading a truly terrible romance novel and giggling about it to my college roommate over IM.
I think I’ve lost a lot of my patience for bad things lately, though. I’m not sure if it’s because of the critical eye I’ve been developing as I grow as a writer, or if it’s because now that I work full time, there aren’t enough hours in the day for me to spend on the quality things I enjoy, much less the awful ones.
But this past weekend, I discovered the BBC show Sanctuary, and somehow managed to stick with it past my initial “Oh my god, this is terrible writing” reaction. The next thing I knew, I’d finished the first season and was frantically waiting for the second to finishing downloading from iTunes.
It is so insanely cracky, and the best part is that it’s completely deadpan about it. It’s like, “This woman is a hundred and fifty seven years old! Because she injected herself with a serum distilled from vampire blood! Also, back in the day, she was in love with the guy who was REALLY Jack the Ripper. And conceived his baby! But she wasn’t ready to have a kid so she froze the embryo until ‘the time was right’. Oh, also, Jack The Ripper can teleport. And he’s still alive today, too. Oh, and they were both BFFs with Nicola Tesla! Who is really a vampire. And is trying to recreate the race and take over the world. Also John Watson, who’s really Sherlock Holmes. (He’s alive, too, but only because a bionic exoskeleton is keeping him that way.) Also, she was present at signing of the peace treaty at the end of WWII. And watched the sunrise with the Beatles. (But only one of them.)”
When I told my writing buddy about it, she accused me of making that up, and I can’t blame her. But cross my heart and hope to die, I swear I didn’t make up a single word. It’s all there.
Is it any wonder I love it? Talk about kitchen sink writing! It’s been a very fun lesson in remembering that sometimes throwing quality to the wind and just having fun with something can be one heck of a ride.
Not that I’m taking any writing lessons from this. I’m not about to start taking this as permission to write terrible, over-the-top fiction. I am going to keep watching, though.