I read the Shannara series a million years ago when I was in middle school. It was the height of geekery, unabashed Tolkien-knockoffs that hit the bestseller lists but never quite managed to enter the mainstream pop culture consciousness the way Harry Potter and Game of Thrones did. (Hint: Game of Thrones the TV show is better. The Magicians TV show is better.)
So there was a bit of cognitive dissonance when I found out that some 33 years after its debut, MTV would be producing an adaptation of this nerdgasm. I mean, GoT is big, but enough that its success would drive MTV to blow its budget on making a fantasy series no one discusses anymore?
Also, MTV! What is going on??
Some good, campy, soapy fun never hurt anyone, but it makes me laugh to think about what producers and execs believe makes good TV. Someday, I will sit on a throne made of melted blue-ray discs of Divergent, The Maze Runner, and Mortal Creatures…Beautiful Instruments? (Whatever.)
Inevitably I decided to imagine what life would be like if I woke up one day in the middle of a YA franchise.
Today I woke up, and I was pretty. Like real pretty.
Except it wasn’t just me, it was all of my friends, my enemies, the people in the background, and my dead parents (looking great in my flashbacks). I am surrounded by 90% blankly beautiful Stepford Wife-looking people with flawless complexions and zero pores, and I have to say, it’s pretty great!
There are also a lot more white people in general, including me now, but my abs look like they are CGI-ed on. And my hair remains perfectly coiffed, untouched by wind or sleep or cataclysm.
I Found That I Am Prone to Making a Lot of Dramatic Statements.
Every so often, I walk up to the window, put my leg up on the sill and gaze off wistfully into the darkening lights of the kingdom/city/giant tree village, and say things like, “A storm is coming” or “A doom is upon us” or “It has begun.” In fact, I’ve taken to saying the latter at every possible event, whether it’s breakfast or a protracted poop.
I’ve even noticed I started interjecting long pauses just before the final … word.
People Keep Trying to Get Me to Follow My Destiny.
It was strange. Today my father sat me down to talk to me about the course of my futures and how he just had two days left till retirement, which is doubly strange, because he works as an indentured servant for a cyborg warlock and we’ve got a lot of debt to go.
Even stranger, my mom sat me down for a similar talk about how she had high hopes for as a child and she knew I was born under the right star. And then there was the local madman drunk from down the road and my grandmother and a talking squirrel.
For some reason, they forgot that I am a teenager. I may have the body of a 26-year old, but most of my forethought is centered around sneaking out at night to meet girls and hang out at tomb where we will awaken the ancient evil future mall.
The funny thing is, when I was just a few years younger, I couldn’t shut up about running away to adventure, usually expressed through song. But I used to be animated then.
Everyone I Love is Dead.
I can’t believe my father was but two days away from retirement, and now he’s gone. Blown to Campbell’s Chunky bits. Either way, everyone I know and love is dead (various murders, blood feuds, and zeppelin accidents), including the squirrel, so I was forced to avenge their deaths and do my own laundry.
I cannot lie. There is a dark, yawning abyss where once dwelled my heart. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and the nightmares come. Sometimes I close my eyes, and they’re there, lurking behind my eyelids. It’s an emptiness brushing up at the corners of my vision, waiting to wash away all the chipped and broken pieces of me
Grief Must be Processed.
I have filled the emptiness in my heart with a pair of women! One of them is my blonde twin sister this girl I had a meet cute with where we sparred angrily for a while before realizing that moodily-lit cave sex would be a good idea. They are both beautiful and fight over me all the time. Problem solved!
Later, we celebrated with an anachronistic fete. Like that time we had an Amish EDM rave with troll sacrifices and watched ancient episodes of Star Trek from thousands of years ago with this new-fangled technology called “electricity.”
We raved for hours.
(NSFW for Neo’s metal shoulder nipples.)
Oh, and I defeated the ancient evil.