The Top 10 Things That Helped Me Get an Agent

When I was a baby writer, starting off in the query trenches, back in 2014, I spent a lot of time reading HOW I GOT MY AGENT blog posts and dreamed about writing my own some day. In my imagination, that was going to be in the not-so-distant future. But as it turns out, querying sucks and I spent far longer trying to get my books into the hands of literary agents than I could have imagined back then. I spent so long, that by the time I got my agent "HOW I GOT MY AGENT" posts were entirely out of fashion and instead, people just posted a quick twitter thread thanking those who helped them along the way when they announced the good news. So I did the same.

And then... something seemed to change? 

Recently, I've seen people posting on Twitter about how those threads aren't super helpful and many querying writers wish they did see more HOW I GOT MY AGENT posts, because those tend to include more nuggets of wisdom about how to break into the industry. If nothing else, they give a more complete story of how a person managed to get agented. Was it inside connections? Was it a cold query? Was it the author's first book or not?

So with that in mind, I thought I would talk a bit about how I signed with my agent. Querying in 2022 is agreed to be an absolute nightmare, and I can't make any promises this will be the miracle cure you need if you're currently stuck in the query trenches, but it's my attempt to make this story as helpful as possible. Instead of telling the tale chronologically, I've organized my journey around ten things I found particularly helpful. A lot of them are things the querying writer has probably heard of before. But my experience has shown that they're not all things everyone is using (or not using to their full potential).

Hopefully, at least one of these will give you some ideas. Or at least a better guide for your expectations of what the thing can do for you.

Okay! Onto the list, though to start with, here's the basic data on my query journey, so you have some context for what I'm saying later.

QUICK STATS:

Book that got me rep: DEATH ON THE CALDERA, a 105,000 word Adult Fantasy

Previous books that didn't get me rep: Three - two YA Fantasy novels and one YA Contemporary

Years spent querying: 8.5

Request Rate on DOTC: 30.5%

Number of Offers of Rep: 3

Signed with Agent: May 2022

Now Represented by: Penelope Burns at Gelfman Schneider!

So, as you can see, I was at this for quite a while. So what made the difference? Here are ten things that helped!

10. Publisher's Marketplace

There are a lot of resources out there for querying writers, though it can be hard to know which ones are actually valuable. Publisher's Marketplace is frustrating, because it costs so much, but it was also an undeniably valuable tool. If you can afford the $25, I would recommend getting it for a month when you're starting to query, then possibly again when you're fielding calls and you want to compare the various agents. Many of the agents I queried weren't particularly active on Twitter and other public forums, but they had sales posted to Publisher's Marketplace. 

I was switching from querying YA to querying adult fantasy for the first time. I really needed to make sure I had done my research into who was selling what so I didn't send my book off in the wrong direction. I'm glad I spent the money, because the two landscapes are very different to query in. There just aren't as many Sci-Fi/Fantasy presses as there are YA, and that was reflected in the number of agents and sales on Publisher's Marketplace. 

PM helped me compile my list, compare offers and feel confident about choosing my agent. That being said, it's in 10th because I think most people can do without it. Get it if you can. Don't lose sleep over it if you can't.

9. QueryTracker

I've had a QueryTracker membership for a few years now and of all the paid resources, this is the one most worth getting. It's a decent return on investment - $25 for a year, last I checked - and it is genuinely SO HELPFUL! I hate spreadsheets and organizing data, but once I logged all my queries into QueryTracker, behold! It did it for me! I had stats! The ability to see myself in the cue of agent's inboxes! It also has some fun features, like the ability to compare against the average QueryTracker user. I don't have huge opinions on what constitutes a good "request rate" when querying. As they say, it only takes one "yes!" But if I was to give a hot take, I would say log your stats on QueryTracker, compare them against other users and aim to be above average. QT stats reflect the most up-to-date state of the query trenches and are going to be better indicators than the opinion of someone who got their agent a few years ago.

QueryTracker also has some cool features like the ability to see what agents have similar taste, so if you get a request from one, you have an idea who else might like your book. It also can help you find more agents who work in your genre. Always check the agent website, though. QT isn't always fully up to date. 

8. Naomi Davis's QueryManager Form

When I started querying, every agent wanted email queries and after some fumbling around early on, I got pretty good at writing those. Even my first VERY rough book netted me a few requests, because I was decent at pitching. And then, during the querying of my third book, something terrifying happened. Forms began to take over. QueryManager forms.

I kid you not, for several years I didn't get a single request off a form query, even though my email query rate was holding steady. I am very very very bad at filling out forms. Few things give me more anxiety. I never knew exactly what an agent wanted in each particular section. Then, as I was getting ready to query DOTC, I came across BookEnds literary agent Naomi Davis's form. And it had... instructions?! Like, lots of really thorough, really clear instructions?????

I actually never queried Naomi - they were closed to queries during the time I was submitting, but that FORM! Unfortunately, it's not viewable right now, but when they open back up, I seriously recommend that everyone who is bad at forms go and check that form out. Especially if you are of a certain neurodivergence, like me, where your brain breaks when you're asked to do several discreet tasks rather than one big one. Hurray for executive dysfunction! Naomi gave me clear direction for what went in each box, why they wanted it and what an appropriate answer sounded like. Most of it was the same information I had in my old query letters but I finally knew where to paste it and how to tweak my answers to better align with each category.

Even though I didn't query Naomi, I used their instructions to guide me when filling out other agent's QueryManager forms and BEHOLD! My request rate recovered. So thank you, Naomi! Not every agent who helps you along your journey ends up representing you. Sometimes they just go the extra mile to make it easier for authors to succeed.

7. Twitter and Pitch Events

Since I started querying, I followed along with the various Twitter pitch events. Roughly speaking, there are two types - the blog style pitch events that showcase first pages and are VERY competitive to enter, like Pitch Wars, and the hashtag driven free-for-all pitch events like #pitmad and #sffpit that enable anyone to try to get agent attention. They gave me external deadlines to aim for, the ability to network and make friends with other authors, and in some cases they even netted me agent requests.

And... both of these are dying out. Pitch Wars and Pitmad are both over. None of the other blog contests seem to be around anymore. And as for the hashtag pitch events, there aren't nearly as many agents showing up for them, so requests rates from those are down but gosh darn it... they both helped ME and so in the interest of being honest, here it is.

I was a Pitch Wars mentee. Not for the book that got me rep, mind you, but back in 2017, with my third book. It was a valuable experience that ultimately didn't result in much flashy success. But what it did give me were friends who were as serious about writing as I was. Those people became the backbone of my critique group. In general, I would recommend using any Twitter event you can to meet other writers, especially if you're like me and come from somewhere sparsely populated, where you're unlikely to make real-life writing friends. 

As for Pitmad, I used to pitch my old books in that and other hashtag contests for years. Five years ago, those events were easier to get requests in. This year, I think across all the hashtag events, I got two requests total. One from an agent who didn't even like my query. I was ready to write them off as a relic of the past, especially since cold querying was working far better for me. But gosh DARN IT! That other agent like I got? It was from Penelope. And I signed with her. My agent found me in a Twitter pitch party.

I am guessing we're the exception, not the rule. After all, the other offers I got came from cold querying. But am I ever glad I did participate in those contests, because Penelope and I might not have connected otherwise. There aren't a ton of agents (numerically) in those hashtags any more, but some of them (like Penelope) are otherwise closed to queries. So as long as those hashtag pitch parties are around, by all means, participate! Even better, make friends! Statistically, you aren't going to get a ton of likes and you may very well have whole pitch events go by without any agent interaction. That's okay! Doing these events are more about shooting your shot JUST IN CASE.

It's not a reflection on your work if it doesn't pitch well on Twitter. These days, it's not even a reflection on your pitch if it doesn't pitch well on Twitter. There are so many writers trying and so few agents scrolling. But it's worth the few extra minutes to schedule some tweets, so you might as well do it. No shot, no score.

As a caveat, there are some pitch events that are better attended by agents, like #DVpit, and if you qualify for participation in those events, you should definitely participate. As a very white, very straight lady, I do not, so I can't comment on what the numbers are like for #DVpit. My perception is that a few more agents try to turn up for those, since they focus on breaking down barriers to publishing for marginalized creators. Still, if you're participating in one of those and you aren't getting a ton of love, remember: it's not you or your book or even your pitch! There are so many other voices competing in these things. Just assume none of the agents saw you and query them anyway. 

I hope something like Pitch Wars and #Pitmad sticks around on Twitter. It feels like Twitter writer culture is in a bit of a transition. Some of the old stand-byes are fading away and we aren't quite sure what is going to rise up in its place. But using contests as a means of establishing deadlines, making friends and connecting with industry professionals is still a great idea.

6. Casting a Wide Net and Being Patient

Here, I'm going to talk query strategy. I did all the basics - queried in batches, revised between batches when I wasn't seeing the success I wanted to, wrote a new book while in the trenches etc. If you want a thorough breakdown of the batch querying technique, I think this Alexa Donne video is very helpful, though I want to throw in a few caveats to what she says. In fact, those caveats will be most of this section.

First, there are a lot of people who insist you need a crazy high request rate in order to be successful. This just isn't true. Alexa made her video a few years ago and most people agree that request rates have stagnated somewhat. Also, she's focused on the YA market which - when she broke in - was absolutely hopping. So while I recommend using her strategy, I would say aim for a request rate between 10-20% and you'll be doing GREAT. Especially if you're in a lower requesting category, like Adult or Middle Grade. If you want a better idea of what query request rates look like for agented authors, check out these charts compiled by M.V. Pine who polled a bunch of recently represented authors. This was what I looked at when I was trying to gauge my progress this past year.

Second, once you are getting requests, QUERY EVERYONE! One of the other reasons Alexa's stats are so high is - if you listen carefully - because of how targeted her list is. Good sirs and madams and gentlepeople, I did not target my list. No, I queried the crap out of everyone. So long as they sold in my category or were getting trained at an agency with good Sci-fi/Fantasy sales, they got a letter from me. This almost certainly lowered my stats over all, but I didn't care. I knew some of these were long shots, since their lists were so full. Others I just wasn't sure if the agent would vibe with my work, but I tried anyway. The handful of requests I got off these were totally worth it. You're not here to get a perfect request rate. You're here to get an agent. Give everyone the chance to rep you.

I also never bothered personalizing a query unless I had something of substance to say. It just ain't worth the time. If this was an agent who requested a previous book and went back and forth with me for a while talking about it then sure, I mentioned that. But don't break your back trying to come up with personalizations that in the end amount to "I saw this in your MSWL" or some variant. I made this change because I realized it was taking me HOURS to send a single query and doing that work had almost no impact on the request rate. Obviously you should change out the agent's name with each query, but copy and paste, my friends! Get the job done quick so you can get a batch of queries off in an afternoon.

Then comes the hard part. Patience. I know the slow response times suck, but they're an unfortunate part of the process. Also, there seems to be an idea that this is a recent change. It's actually been my experience that an agent taking over a year on a full is normal. Very normal. And yes, there are agents who might take a year to answer queries. This isn't as common, but it is, again, normal. It's been going on since I first started querying and will likely be the case long into the future. If something happens in the writing world that manages to shake these things up and improve conditions for writers, I will be among the first to celebrate it. But until that day, I want to make sure people know that it's not crazy to be patient and wait on a query for a year. It sucks, but it's normal. Querying sucking is normal.

With that, if you DO get an offer of rep, notify everyone, including those queries you were considering closing as non-responders. If you've barely passed the date where they say "if it's silence, it's a no," and you haven't heard anything, follow up, just in case they're a few weeks behind. If their website doesn't explicitly state they're a closed-no-response agent, follow up with a nudge. I got a lot of passes that way, but I also got some requests. Better safe than sorry. Querying takes a long time, and you don't want to cut someone out prematurely.

5. Studying the Craft

So it turns out if you want to write a book you should... um... learn how? 

When I started querying, I was finishing up my MFA in Creative Writing and I really hoped this would give me an edge. Not so much from a clout perspective (agents really don't care if you have an MFA) but I hoped it meant that I knew what I was doing. I knew writing! I had letters next to my name to prove it!

And I'm not saying my MFA didn't help - I learned a lot in school - but it also DID NOT teach me everything I needed to know about writing. Particularly, it didn't teach me everything I needed to know about myself as a writer. So gradually, I made myself study more and more.

I went to writing conferences. I listened to almost the whole back catalogue of Writing Excuses episodes. I watched multiple versions of Brandon Sanderson's Writing Sci-Fi and Fantasy class. I bought craft books and read Save the Cat Writes a Novel and learned how to make a beat sheet and then ignored that outline like the pantser I am. The resources you need are going to be specific to you. I can't guess at what particular thing you need to study in order to improve but all of us do need to. In general, I would recommend everyone listen to seasons 10 and 11 of Writing Excuses at some point and if you're focused in Sci-Fi and Fantasy, you should watch Brandon's class. They're free and they're incredibly valuable.

Regardless, it's always a good idea to learn more. Even on my first book, I was getting requests. Some of what I was doing was working, but not enough. I needed to learn more and improve my craft before I could break through, even though I felt SO CLOSE with all three of my previous books. And this all still holds true. I still have so many things I need to learn how to do. One of the reasons I've focused less on craft in this post and more on query strategy is because frankly, I don't feel bold enough to say DO THIS AND YOUR BOOK WILL BE GOOD ENOUGH about anything. And yet, that's the ultimate thing that will get you the agent/book deal/etc. Refining your craft until your work is good enough and the stars align with just enough luck to get your foot through the door.

4. A New Set of Eyes

When I started writing Death on the Caldera, I really felt like this book was the one. I was excited to query it. My first pages had recently won a prize in a first chapter contest and people loved my pitch. It was gonna do great in the query trenches and nab me dozens of requests! Right? 

RIGHT???

Lol, nope. When I first started, I had no bites and I was honestly confused. I was brazenly confident about my book and had been SO CLOSE with book #3 before it. My critique group loved my novel. So what was going wrong?

Well, I luckily had a friend and mentor who agreed to read the first 75 pages of the manuscript and her comments helped me realize something. None of what I had written was BAD, per say, but the scene I had chosen to begin with didn't set up the book as well as I had hoped. I wasn't giving agents the right set of expectations for what came next. Both my query and first pages were decent, but they didn't match. 

So I cut that prize winning chapter and rewrote the entire beginning of the book and with it, a lot of the rest of the manuscript. And THAT version was the one that got me interest. 

Obviously not everyone is going to have the same set of problems when they start to query, but I learned a valuable lesson about outside perspective. My critique group was just too close to the manuscript at that point and like me, couldn't see exactly what wasn't working anymore. My mentor could. Before you query, I would highly recommend putting your work in front of someone you really trust who hasn't seen it before, so that they can spot what you and those you are closest to are blind to. It might save you some stress and tears.

3. Critique Group

I can't say enough good things about my critique group. It can take a lot of time to curate a group and get people who are committed and show up reliably, but once you have it, wow. It's the best. I really believe that critique partners are the one universal behind every great author. Learning to take feedback and integrate it into your writing is the work of a lifetime (still learning!) but it's so worth it.

For anyone looking for a critique group and struggling to find reliable people, man, I get it. If possible, I think you should try to get a group that meets at least bi-weekly, either in person or online. Mine is online and we just start a group chat on Messenger and read pages together once a week. It's the best. I was in several before this one took off and it took years before I got the exact fit I wanted. 

If you don't have a great group yet, just keep meeting people and swapping pages and talking things out until hopefully, you find a group that fits. Talk to your fellow writers. Mention how you would love to find a great critique group. Someone might have a lead. Our group started two years ago, but some of the people who have helped me the most joined after we first founded. They came in because they asked around and heard from our group members that we had something going on they could join.

2. Rewriting the Book

I mentioned the rewrite I did under section four, but here I want to talk more generally about editing. While writing a new book is an important part of growing as a writer and giving yourself the best chance possible while querying, learning how to edit also matters a LOT. 

If the book isn't working, try rewriting it AT LEAST once before giving up on it. Often I hear authors ask how they'll know if something is query ready and my experience is this: you do the best you can, send it out, then discover it wasn't good enough, and rewrite it. 

With all of my books (except one), I did at least one major revision before abandoning them in the query trenches. In every case, my request rate went up after the revision. The only book where I didn't, it was because I could tell the book needed a revision, I just didn't have a good sense of what the rewrite would look like, so I moved on to the next book. 

Obviously, you try to rewrite your book to the best of your ability before ever sending it out, but don't be afraid to go back and rewrite if things aren't going well. Get some outside eyes on it (as mentioned in point 4) and then try to rework it into something stronger. 

My third book actually netted me two different Revise and Resubmit requests. These taught me a lot about revision and in some ways, I felt like I finally knew how to assign myself an R&R when I went back to rewrite Death on the Caldera. Revision is a learned skill and even if your book does still die in the query trenches, like my earlier ones did, I'm glad I spent the time learning how to revise so that I could successfully do it later.

1. Writing Another Book

So say you've queried that book, sent it out, revised it, sent it out again and it's STILL not working out for you? Well, perchance, the time has come. Time to write another book. Ideally, you've been drafting it already while the last book was in the query trenches, so the transition isn't too much of a shock. But there still seems to be a point where we have to make a conscious choice to let one project die and focus on another.

Generally, I would say try to get to 100 or so queries before letting a project die. Though I'll be honest, some genres there might not be 100 agents to query, especially if you query agencies that are one-and-done. But at LEAST 50 then. Don't give up too soon.

One of the stickiest decisions I had to make in my own query journey came in late 2020 when an agent offered me a Revise and Resubmit opportunity with my previous novel, the YA Contemporary. This had been my Pitch Wars novel and it was - without question - the best book I had ever written. 

So far.

The thing was, I was halfway through my draft of Death on the Caldera, which I was way more excited about, plus it was a completely different type of book. An agent who loved my YA Contemporary might not want me to give them an Adult Fantasy next. I waffled for several weeks about which one to focus on until, in the end, the new book won out. Sure, I could make the old book better by revising it again, but I knew I had a different, BETTER book on my hands if I could just finish it. I felt a little crazy letting the old book die before it was truly dead, but I had already been around the R&R block with that manuscript once before and I knew this opportunity could also result in another "no."

In addition to writing, I also love to paint, and when using watercolor, there's always a risk of going over the same section too many times until it looks overworked. That can happen in writing too. We can stall out on the same project for too long, when it might be more helpful to move on to something new. 

In the end, I really do believe that the best decision I made for my writing career was to keep writing new books. I could incorporate the new things I was learning until eventually, I had a better book. I've loved all my projects, but it really is okay to let one go and allow yourself to fall in love with something new. It might just be the book you really needed.

So. There you go. That's the list. It's too long. I'm sorry, brevity was never my strong suit (which is why I needed to learn to edit). But those are the things that helped me. I hope they help you. And I hope you publish a million books.

Name Meg's Cat on Neptune Bay Contest!!!!

For most followers of this blog, I don't think it's any surprise to learn that rather than blogging lately, I have been working on a comic. Neptune Bay is free to read on Webtoon and Tapas!

In celebration of making it to fifteen (fifteen! 😱) episodes, I'm hosting a give-away to name Meg's new cat! Participating in this will really help the comic grow and enable me to keep making it. If you're curious about how Webtoon works and how to support artists like me on the platform, feel free to keep reading below. But first thing's first! You can enter the contest here, via Rafflecopter!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Here are my quick stipulations for the contest/cat names. Most of these are just to help the contest run smoothly and also make sure I get a name that actually fits inside word balloons when I'm lettering the comic:

This is an all-ages comic, so cat names must be G-Rated. Cat name also must consist of letter combinations that are readily pronounceable in the English language. Max length: 12 letters. I reserve the right to write Meg using adorable, shortened nickname versions of the name. Winner will be required to submit their selected cat name within five days of being notified they have won, or the contest will draw again for a new winner. For interest's sake, the cat is male, though if you want to name him Princess Purr I won't stop you.

Next, for the uninitiated, here's the pitch for the comic, as it appears on Webtoon:

After a bad break-up, Meg is living on her best friend's couch, desperate for change. When she finds a small farm on picturesque Neptune Island, she jumps at the chance to escape the big city, just like the characters in her favorite farming sim games! 

But quirky townspeople are harder to befriend in real life. And maybe the reason the farm is so cheap has something to do with the dead body in the river.

Created using ink, watercolor and whatever other art supplies I have on hand, NEPTUNE BAY updates Thursdays and is perfect for fans of video games like Harvest Moon and Stardew Valley.

It really means a lot to me, the amount of support that people have given my work on this new comic. I started it on a lark, then found I really loved making it. I'm hopeful I can make this comic a regular part of my creative life. And since you guys are wonderful, and I know so many of you are trying to support me, I thought it might be helpful to let you all know what kinds of support are currently the most useful for me as a fledgling creator. Or honestly, any creator on Webtoon. 

I know I personally can really struggle to know what works best/means the most to creators when I engage with their work, even when I want to show support. So after much research, these are the things that seem to help the most right here, right now for getting my work in front of people.

1. Subscribe to the comic and read all the episodes!

Webtoon has some great features for supporting artists through ad-revenue sharing, once they reach a certain threshold for subscribers and views. Essentially, if you are subscribed to the comic and reading regularly, you are already helping so much! THANK YOU!!!

2. Leave hearts/likes on the Episode on Webtoon!

Webtoon also tracks "likes" and increases support/visibility to comics based on how many little hearts each episode racks up. If you're already reading the comic, it can be a HUGE help to drop a heart once you're done the episode. Yes, even episodes with Greg in them. Even if you (understandably) hate him.

3. Share the comic with your friends!

Whether through social media (Facebook, Instagram, etc) or in real life with actual people, word of mouth support means so much to me and helps get the comic in front of people who otherwise might not know about it! Also, if you still have real life friends, color me impressed in these Pandemic-laden times.

As you can see, the contest is structured around those three things. Once again, I really value all the support I've already received (and if you've made it to the end of this post then like, wow. You are a pal!) and I can't wait to keep making this comic and sharing it with all of you. 

Best of luck! Sharpen those cat names! And see you for another episode of Neptune Bay next week. :)

Best Animated Feature and Why We Need a Best Children's Film Oscar

I've mentioned before on this blog that one of the - ahem - hallmarks of my family Christmas experience is my mother's taste in movies. Put simply, my mother has never met a Christmas film she didn't like, or at least find watchable. She's always on the hunt for pleasant holiday background noise while she sews or wraps presents. She's watched more than her fair share of made for TV movies and with the rise of Netflix, and the Netflix Christmas deluge we get each year, her numbers have only gone up.

Of course, what she really hopes for is that somewhere, buried in the pile of yellow Christmas snow, she'll stumble across a film that can join the likes of White Christmas, A Christmas Carol and Ernest Saves Christmas in the family's yearly holiday rotation. Still, she doesn't expect much from the average Christmas flick and I - who frequently gets dragged into watching these movies with her - have learned to hope for even less.

Which is part of what made this year such a treat. One Friday night in November, we fired up Netflix, hunting for a Christmas movie, and it immediately recommended a new animated film to us. It was, of course, Klaus, which is also the first foray Netflix has taken into producing feature length animation.

A few minutes into the movie, my father hadn't left the room in disinterest yet, mom had laughed at several jokes and I'd complimented the animation style roughly fifty times. At this point I looked at my mother and said, "wait... did we put a good movie on?"

I was just as confused as Jesper when I found myself enjoying this film.

Yes, Virginia. By some Christmas miracle, it turned out that we were watching a good movie.

A "New" Christmas "Classic"

Klaus isn't perfect, but there is so very much to like about it. The story offers a fun, new take on the story of Santa Claus, with enjoyable characters and a plot that, while predictable, really strikes the heartstrings in the end. WHEN HE WALKS OFF INTO THE SNOW, GUYS! WHEN HE WALKS OFF!!!! (Insert crying face here). Still, where the film really shines isn't so much in the story department as it is the visuals.

Sergio Pablos directed the film and spent years developing its style and story to be exactly as he wanted it, but for a long time, couldn't find a studio willing to back it. It was risky for several reasons, the Christmas content among them. Most recent film studios haven't been able to make much money off of Christmas theater releases, due to the stiff competition from the likes of Disney and other headliner movies. To give an idea, if Klaus had been in theaters during this same time frame, it would have faced off against Frozen II and likely fallen flatter than a pancake.

Luckily, Netflix isn't trying to fill theater seats. The Christmas movie crowd is more likely to want to watch something new while bundled up in cozy blankets, sipping cocoa. It was why Christmas movies were such a natural market for Netflix in the first place and Klaus's Christmas focus meant they could guarantee themselves an audience for their first, splashy foray into animated film.

Still, they could have gone the lazy way making this film, (as Netflix has been willing to be with some of their other Christmas fare), but everything about Klaus speaks to what a passion project it was. The last 2D animated film produced by a major Hollywood studio was Winnie the Pooh, an adaptation Disney put out in 2011. Before that, it was Princess and the Frog in 2009. Both of those movies have their fans, but their lack of box office domination led Disney to give up on their brief flirtation with trying to bring 2D animation back after its collapse in the early 2000s.

When Sergio Pablos made Klaus, he wanted to create something that wasn't such a nostalgic throwback, as Disney's last two attempts were, but instead had its own style that incorporated digital tools. By utilizing software to shade and light the characters, his studio created something that had the expressive, cartoony quality so loved about old hand drawn cartoons, while also benefiting from the depth and sense of three dimensional form that makes 3D animation so beautiful. And to do this, his team had to develop all the new software themselves.

I highly recommend checking out YouTube and the many videos that showcase the animation style of Klaus from test footage all the way up to it's released form. They provide a fascinating behind the scenes look at the production of animation and give some idea of how much work and thought went into this goofy Christmas flick.

I've wanted to write about Klaus for a while, but couldn't settle on the right angle, then Christmas came and went, making me sad I lost my chance. But lo and behold, the Blogging Gods must be looking out for me, because Klaus just faced off against Frozen II again and this time, it won.

Oscar Madness

As of the writing of this blog post, I have seen every Oscar winning animated movie ever. In fact, I even have ranked them, a list I plan on updating once this year's winner is announced. More than likely, I'm going to need to see this year's winner first, since I didn't get to many movies in theater during early 2019, due to a lack of wiggle room in my budget.

I've heard good things about all of the nominees. While I find any year that doesn't nominate at least one Japanese film a bit suspicious, I do think the list is a good representation of the diversity of films that North American and European animation studios are putting out. I'm not quite sure which horse I'm cheering for the most. By virtue of Toy Story 4 being in the mix, it's the default front runner, as the Academy historically bends to Disney and Pixar if they turn out a film that registers as "good." That's the problem of the Academy awards. More often than not, they award the big players who have deep pockets for "For Your Consideration" campaigns and private viewings with Academy voters.

So when the nominees were announced and Klaus beat out Frozen II to take the final spot on the ballot, I will admit, I cheered a little. The film had been snubbed at the Golden Globes, not just in favor of Frozen II, but also for that brown mush of a movie, Disney's new Lion King, which is nothing but a shroud of a better film. To be clear, I don't dislike Frozen II. It's fine. But it lacks the heart of the first movie and I can't say I came home from it feeling particularly much of anything. It certainly didn't illicit the same reaction I had at Klaus because WHEN HE WALKS OFF INTO THE SNOW, GUYS!!!!

If I had to pinpoint one reason why Frozen II didn't work for me, it was likely because none of the emotional stakes felt very real. The film didn't do the best job of setting up the emotional thrust of the film, unlike the first one, where you feel the ache of the sisters' loneliness within a couple short scenes. Frozen II spent a long time trying to establish its emotional heart of righting past wrongs, no matter the consequences. When the climax came, and Anna is making her pivotal choices alone and singing her song, my thoughts were more, "oh, so THIS is what the story was building to" rather than "OH MY HEART!!!" I also don't think the story was helped by the use of *SPOILER* a false death scene for Elsa or Olaf in it because, as an adult, I just couldn't believe this movie would kill it's characters. They make Disney too much money for that.

Into the Unknown: Where Elsa literally states that
she doesn't know why she's doing this movie.

Now, some of you might be going, "but it's a KIDS movie! My kid couldn't tell Olaf wasn't dead! That hit him super hard! You can't judge Disney for not meeting your cynical expectations as an adult viewer! It still deserved to be nominated for an Oscar!" To that I have two counter arguments.

1) Klaus is a kids movie too, that still manages tight emotional stakes, as evidenced by WHEN HE WALKS OFF INTO THE SNOW!!! SERIOUSLY!!!!!!

2) Here's the thing... the award is for best animated movie. Not best kid's movie.

So, um... What's that Oscar About, Anyway?

I have watched every single winner of the best animated movie Oscar and every one of them is appropriate for children. Rango might not be particularly interesting to younger children, but still, a kid over ten would have no problem with it.

The Academy still reflects the views of white North America towards film, despite its efforts to diversify. One of the consequences of that is a lack of appreciation or acceptance of animated films that are not made for children. Japanese animation is notably more diverse in terms of its intended audience, yet if you look at which Japanese anime films get nominated for Oscars, it's predominantly the ones that can be marketed towards children.

Occasionally, we get outliers. This year's nominees even includes one, a French film about severed hand titled I Lost My Body, which is conveniently also on Netflix, and next on my "to watch" list. But I can't imagine it has much of a shot up against the likes of Toy Story and... well, Toy Story. And not only does this seem unfair to movies like I Lost My Body, but I would argue, it's unfair to the likes of Toy Story 4 as well. How are you supposed to compare two films like that?

How are you supposed to compare Loving Vincent, a film painstakingly painted to resemble the work of Van Gogh to Coco, the movie it lost the animation Oscar to in 2018? In 2007, how did the Academy choose between an adaptation of Marjane Satrapi's memoir graphic novel, Persepolis, about growing up in Iran, and Ratatouille? The problem isn't that some of these movies aren't "good enough" or "deserving" but that their intended audiences have so little to do with each other.

Loving Vincent. This movie is still on my "to watch" pile and PLEASE!
Suggestions in comments on where to find it!

In the book world this year, no one is pitting Margaret Atwood's Testaments against Angie Thomas's On the Come Up. Just because Atwood won the Booker doesn't mean Thomas doesn't have a shot at the Printz award. And no YA novel is going to take the Newbery medal away from a deserving Middle Grade book (though there was the year a picture book won the Newbery, which was... a choice?).

Movie land, however, has no conceptual framework for distinguishing between media meant for children and media meant for adults. Television only came across the concept due to network programming, where certain shows could only air after sensitive eyes were likely in bed, and where commercial interests meant the after school slot was perfect for catching the ages five through twelve crowd.

I've talked before about how the rating system is often used to signal what audience a film is meant for, irrespective of actual content concerns. It's why La La Land contains exactly one F-bomb in an otherwise language, sex and violence free movie. It's not that the content was inappropriate, just that the movie was meant for adults and a musical with a G rating would have likely confused viewers.

AWARDS FOR EVERYONE!!!

One of the other major ways we signal "for children" in our culture is with animation. When I look at the list of winning movies, what I see isn't so much a list of the risky, artistically innovative animated movies. Instead, it's a list of generally solid children's films. Coco is a phenomenal children's movie, but I don't think you can call it more innovative to animation as an art form than Loving Vincent, the first fully painted animated movie ever. And it's a shame, because in a better world, they both would have awards. Loving Vincent for Achievements in Animation, which would now be a technical award, and Coco for Best Children's Film (or Family Film, though I would rather see the award focus on children so as to avoid the devaluing of "popular" movies that may or may not be for children, but lots of families see.)

Into the Spiderverse is another film I have a million thoughts on.
Sound off in the comments if you want a blog post on it!

On occasion, the two do collide. Last year, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse was both the most gorgeous and ground-breaking animated film and also a triumph of storytelling, appropriate for children. But we're fine with plenty of other films winning multiple categories, so why not these? Besides, having a category for Best Children's Film would open the door for great movies that don't meet the requirements of other awards. If I could retroactively create this award, there's no way any of the animated films of 1987 would win Best Children's Film, when The Princess Bride came out that year. It's a shoe in!

It also might correct some of the problems the Academy faced when they tried to create a "Best Popular Film" category. By focusing on intended audience by age, rather than reinforcing their own idea that "popular blockbuster movies are by definition not artistic," we might have a place to acknowledge some truly great films that are not aimed at adults. Clearly, there would still be a gray area for a lot of blockbusters aimed at teenagers, but I can't solve all the problems in this blog post. At the very least, I wish there was a space that acknowledged the range of films made for children and one that spoke to the diversity of the world's animation.

For now, Klaus is probably the stand-out as a technical piece, but is it the best story of the whole field? Is it the best children's movie? Klaus's claim to that is much shakier.

Regardless, I'm cheered by the animation nominees. Disney has such an iron grip on the category, it was nice to see their fingers loosened a little. With so little other positive news in this year's Oscar nominations, as far as diversity goes, at least the animation category wasn't owned by one company.

At least until Toy Story 4 inevitably wins them yet another award.

Writing, Art and Creator Burn-Out: A Tale of 2019

For anyone working in the creative arts, figuring out where to get inspiration and refill that so-called "artistic well" is among the most important of challenges they face. For myself, I have a number of strategies. Going for walks, talking about movies and books with my friends and, of course, watching musicals.

One musical I think about often when I'm in creative downturns, looking for renewed vigour, is Sondheim and Lapine's Sunday in the Park with George, which tells the fictionalized story of French post-impressionist George Seurat and how he came to paint his most famous work, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.

In the musical, everyone pictured is singing!

Throughout the play, various characters comment on George's obsession with the painting, what it means to be an artist and what art even is. There are lots of characters offering hot takes, but one has always stood out to me. 

Work is what you do for other people. Art is what you do for yourself.

I don't particularly agree. Art, I tend to think, has more to do with the content of the piece rather than the origin or expression of the creation, and yet I've often thought this quote gets at something very real. This crosses out of the realm of visual art and also applies to the art of writing.

Writing for Yourself and Other People

When starting out, most books grow from an idea the author is passionate about. In the sense of the quote from Sunday in the Park with George, this is where art is not work. It's a thing writers do for themselves; scribbling new stories with fresh, new ideas. If this was the whole writing process, then writing never would be work, but it is, and all too often, it becomes work the moment other people enter the picture.

Almost everything that you can buy published in a bookstore found its way there by way of a major publishing company and was touched not just by the author, but also an editor and probably an agent and maybe a marketing department and definitely a cover designer. And along the way, they asked the author to make (le gasp!) changes.

I got a first hand taste of this over the past year, when an agent I queried asked me to complete a revise and resubmit. Most of the changes she asked for I agreed would make the book better, so I got to work. And work it certainly was, because that level of unpacking a book is not something I would have done "for myself."

I've gone through forms of this process before, and don't get me wrong. I enjoy my work. But maybe because I spent so much of this year revising, writing felt like less fun than it usually does. All writers have their favourite parts of the writing process and mine are early on - usually idea generation, drafting and reworking the "first draft" into it's second, slightly less messy iteration. Those are such fun stages. I do them for myself.

I'm proud of the revision I did this year. I'm grateful for the eyes of other people and for the pressure I feel to make my writing something that communicates ideas more clearly and meets the needs of my audience, not just my own. But in a tough year, where the writing felt like work, I needed something to refill my creative well more than usual.

So writing was what I did for other people. Art was what I did for myself.

Children and Art

I can say with utmost confidence, I did not come into this world with extraordinary talent for visual art. I made blobs and squiggles and stick-men of the same caliber as my peers. But did I ever love doing it. Creating something and then being able to hold it up and say "look!" was reason enough to keep at it. I think most children are like this. They love putting something into the world that didn't exist before and they rarely question if their work is "quality." It's just pure art. Something they do for themselves, not other people.

The hard part is keeping kids drawing once they're old enough to compare their work to their peers and start realizing some kids are progressing faster than others. Here, my greatest talent was not in producing great art, but in being oblivious. For years, I pressed on filling massive binders full of "masterpieces" that were nothing more than weirdly proportioned renderings of my stuffed animals. Yes, I kept these and yes, I still love them.

I only chanced upon the concept of artistic "skill" in Grade 4 when I became close friends with the girl who everyone agreed was the best artist in our class. For a split second, I felt discouraged, but she loved drawing and she was my friend, so we drew together and that was that. I got comfortable being worse at something than someone else, and that kept my artistic spirit alive. I kept drawing my stuffed animals, but increasingly, I also designed original characters based on the stories I made up. I shamelessly copied the work of my older sister and her friends, who also liked drawing, learning early Picasso's lesson of "stealing like an artist." Sorry to plagiarize you, Kate.

Sometime around my late teens, it became apparent that I actually did draw better than most of my friends (though not all. I've consistently spent my life with at least one best friend who is better at art than I am. Shout out to today's model, Lean Conrad!). But getting where I am today in art was a slow process born of years upon years of both doodling and intentional practice.

Move On

Fast-forward to January of 2019, when I was starting the year in a strange place. I was job hunting, slogging through a revision of my book that wouldn't come together and living in a new city. From the outset, 2019 had a lot of difficult things working against it, and I could feel myself struggling to keep my head afloat.

I needed a survival strategy. After reading some literature online about the use of art in therapy, I decided I need to reinvest in one of my old hobbies. Art is known for having profound mental health benefits and best of all, skill has nothing to do with effectiveness! The mere act of creating and expressing oneself artistically is helpful. With that in mind, I gave it a try.

Going into this year, I felt rusty. My artistic progress has not always been linear, and I was out of practice. Some seasons of my life, I've devoted more time to art than others and I can still look at old pieces that stack up decently next to what I create now. For example, here is a baseball card sized painting of raccoons in our family cherry tree I did 10 years ago that is STILL the best raccoon related piece I've ever done.

Progress is a lie!

Or so it felt. But I needed art this year. I needed something that I could do for myself, that would bring me joy and refill my creative well when my writing was hard and burning me out.

To start, I watched a few art YouTube videos for inspiration, including a few that talked about their *~*art journey*~* and overwhelmingly, a lot of these artists mentioned how posting their work online helped them, even when their work wasn't what many people would describe as "good" yet. Just posting it helped them be accountable, made them take stock of their own progress and prompted positive feedback from family and friends who were just pleased to see them creating.

Ever since Grade 4 introduced me to friends who drew better than I did, I've been painfully aware of how flawed my own artwork is. It took a lot of nerve to start posting my work, but I figured I could use the kick-in-the-butt accountability gave me, plus whatever positive reinforcement my circle might give. So I took the dive.

First, and more important than I might have expected, I organized my supplies. I went through a Marie Kondo phase at the end of 2018 and got rid of a LOT of stuff that was otherwise overcrowding the new space I lived in. One of the discoveries I made during this was that every single one of my art supplies sparked joy and I had no interest in getting rid of a single tube of paint, but they also weren't likely to do me much good buried in a closet. Realizing this, I moved my art supplies to their own unit in my bedroom. Everyday, I wake up and they stare at me from beneath a poster of Porgs, reminding me I should be making art.

So I got out my watercolours, the most joyful of my supplies, and I made myself paint.

I started with my comfort zone. I don't draw my stuffed animals as much any more, but fan art is kind of comparable, so I painted some faces from the Umbrella Academy.

Painted early March 2019, when I really got going

I really enjoyed working on these, but I also found painting took a LOT of time and specialized supplies. You have to really set up water and your work area, and I didn't always have the space and time to do so. During my Kon-Marie purge, I whittled down my sketchbooks to the drawings I wanted to keep, plus a sketchbook I had halfheartedly started with a drawing or two the previous year. It was portable and it was there, so good enough.

The paper in that sketchbook wasn't the best, so at first I tried to stay black and white. The one time I added paints, the pages buckled like crazy. But black and white art tends to bore me a bit, in part because I'm stronger at colour theory than I am line art. I realized I was more likely to draw if I gave myself permission to colour pieces afterwards, so even though the paper could barely handle the ink, I pulled out my old prismacolour markers. Eventually, I got some pieces I was happy with.

It was a lot of fun rediscovering my markers. They don't always feel as "classy" as my watercolours do, but I love their vibrancy and I had to admit, I was probably better at using them than I was paint. I tried harder to bounce back and forth between the two, as I learned to get different effects with the different media.

Since I was job hunting, I didn't have a lot of extra cash lying around for new supplies or classes, so I focused on using what I had and studying free, online lessons. (I have so many opinions on "Art YouTube" now and what videos/content creators might be useful for a beginner like me. Let me know if you need recommendations!) Watching them prompted me to do some basic "good practice" exercises I'd neglected over the years, like swatching all my paints and markers, filling the whole page in a sketchbook and practicing body parts from different angles. As someone who uses alcohol based markers, I also quickly ran into the cult of Copic users and learned there were markers with velvety brush nibs, that let you blend and color in a way that resembles painting. I was intrigued, but too poor to consider such treasures.

My other great resource was the aforementioned best friend and better artist, Leah Conrad. A young, busy mum, Leah was excited to see me get back into art and wanted to draw together immediately. Whether she was working on commissions or something just for fun and practice, her company was always a huge blessing. She knew things. I could hold something up to her and say, "something is wrong but what?????" and she could spout off quick, helpful advice like, "the foreground and background are too similar" or "that arm should be longer" and then I could get back to work. Check her out on Instagram and enjoy a peek of some of her awesome work below!

Shooting Stars Over Mill Hill, by Leah Conrad

Leah also introduced me to the very addiction I thought I couldn't afford. As I rambled to her about the art videos I had been watching and how badly I wanted to try brush nibbed alcohol markers she casually uttered the words, "I have Copics."

Copics. The industry standard, Rolls-Royce of alcohol markers. She had a small, carefully curated set that she rarely used, and was willing to lend them to me.

Prismacolour markers are very good markers and besides which, there are far more important things than art supply quality when it comes to creating art. Still, supplies do help. Once I got used to the feel of them, I couldn't deny that they worked better than what I was used to. They blended smoother and layered gorgeously. My art took a jump up in overall quality and going back to my old markers was slightly depressing.

First Copic illustrations, from July 2019

I decided to use some coupons to buy just a small set of Copic markers of my own. I expected to spend a very long time building my Copic collection up to the same numbers as my Prismacolour markers, until salvation arrived in the form of Facebook Marketplace. Someone was selling their collection of lightly used Copics for roughly 80% off the regular retail price.

After that? I kept drawing. I took books out of the library. I practiced the exercises they suggested. I joined an art group that trades art around the world and sent in baseball card sized illustrations to new friends. As I continued to post my work online, I made more friends and saw more art that inspired me, and they were kind enough to encourage me in my art journey.

By the beginning of September, two magical things happened. First, I filled a 75 page sketch book that I'd started only six months earlier, which was far more than I'd drawn in years. Second, I had a job! The summer had been very stressful, due to the ongoing job hunt, so getting some stability was a tremendous blessing. I honestly don't know if I could have made it through the summer without art. It kept me sane and feeling like I was accomplishing something when there weren't obvious milestones to point to in my work and writing.

With that in mind, I decided I wanted to do something big and challenging in my *~*art journey*~* as a way of saying thank you to the thing that kept me going through the year. With that in mind, I geared up for my first ever Inktober.

Inktober 2019

Every year, artists around the world challenge themselves during the month of October with the task of producing more art and learning new skills. The basic form of the challenge is this:

1) To produce a new work of art each day of the month
2) Drawn in ink
3) Based on an official prompt list released each year.

There are people who fudge the rules, which is fine. Maybe they don't have time to draw every day or work digitally. Plus, there are roughly 50 billion prompt lists that pop up each year for those who don't want to use the official one. But for my first year, I played it pretty traditional. Conveniently, I wanted to practice dip pen inking, plus I'd never forced myself to generate that many drawings in a single month before. The prompt list seemed like a good source of ideas when burn-out inevitably set in, so I also committed to that.

Challenges were no stranger to me. Writers use the following month, November, as NaNoWriMo - or National Novel Writing Month. I had never successfully done NaNo, however, so I was a bit nervous going into Inktober. Still, I felt as ready as I ever could be.

I'm still processing everything I learned during the month. In an effort to try to organize some of my thoughts, here's a list.

1) It's absolutely possible! Despite some occasionally rocky days and nights that went until 3 am, I finished the challenge. My new sketchbook has one drawing for every day of October and for that alone, I am immensely proud and grateful.

2) It's absolutely possible to burn yourself out doing it! To minimize the pressure, I chose all my materials ahead of time and used the same supplies and process EVERY SINGLE DAY. I wanted to get rid of as many on-the-fly decisions as possible, so I could focus on the challenge and moving on with my life. Still, I was losing my mind a little towards the end. Consider, for instance, this image from Day 30, prompt word "Catch." It was drawn upside down and on the wrong side of the page in my sketchbook, but I did not realize it until after it was done. I also had giant, scribbly blobs by it that I hastily covered up with a digital speech bubble for my Instagram post.

What a catch.

3) It's unlikely you will get thirty-one brilliant works of art from the challenge. But you'll get something. Some days, I didn't have time or energy to throw myself at a piece for a long time. Almost everything I drew that month felt a little rushed. I couldn't return to something the next day and refine it, because it was too important that I move on to the next picture. Allowing myself to be happy with something quick and easy was an important survival strategy.

4) I generally conceptualized a piece, drew, inked and coloured all in one day. This lack of forethought meant I learned a few things about my default style. Going in, I knew I drew a lot of people and faces, but what surprised me was how often I turned to animals. These were frequently my favourite pieces and the ones I was most likely to use reference photos for.

Days 24 and 23

5) Even though I wanted to improve my inking and line art, I found my colouring with Copics probably saw the most progress. Ah well.

6) While most of the challenge passed in a flurry, there were still days when life came together and I actually made something better and stronger than my usual work. You throw enough darts, eventually one will hit the bull's eye. This stretch of drawings really sang for me.

Days 11 through 13

7) By the end, when I was finishing the challenge just so I could say that I did it, it felt like... work. And that's okay. If I was left to FOLLOW MY BLISS everywhere in life, I would never finish anything. And with that in mind, by the time I was done Inktober, I was ready to be done something else too.

Putting it Together

By the end of October, I had a very full sketchbook and no desire to draw anything for a couple of weeks while I recuperated. So what did I do instead? I finished revising my book.

I had been chipping away at that revision all year long, but going into November, I felt an extra degree of oomph pushing me. My creative well was full of fan art, Copic markers, drawing sessions with Leah, reference photos, dip pens and watercolours. Within a few weeks I was done, had notes back from Beta readers and could query my book for the first time in over a year... right on time for the holiday slowdown.

But that's okay. I might not have word back about my book, but it exists in a more refined version now, as do pages of art that helped me through it. In my own life, I do believe art can be work, and that we do it both for ourselves and for other people. Going into the new year, I don't know what project will be my main focus. I've been working on revising one book for a long time and now, it's time to find it a home with an agent or publisher. Failing that, it's probably time to write something new. I'm not certain what that will be yet. I might need to do some sketching to figure it out.

What I really learned this year was the importance of a hobby. Art might not be the thing that intervenes on your behalf, but it certainly helped me. At the Storymakers Conference this year, I heard a wonderful quote in a talk given by Josi Kilpack.

That which takes me away from writing gives me something to write about.

At the time, I thought of the things that take me away from writing against my will, like day jobs and family commitments, but now I want to advocate for the things we willingly let take us away from our artistic passions. You cannot draw water from an empty well, so find a way to fill it. Let yourself have something you "do for yourself" that doesn't feel at all like work.

As I reach a crossroads in my writing, I'm at a similar one in my art. I don't know what my next big goal will be now that Inktober is over. For Christmas, I asked for some new art supplies and am lucky enough that many of them showed up in my stocking and under the tree come Christmas morning. There's definitely some playing around and inspiration to be found there.

Still, I think the most profound gift I received was one that came from another young artist. My eight-year-old nephew spent weeks leading up to Christmas telling me how excited he was to give me the gift he picked out for me. When I opened it, I found a black, hardbound sketchbook, just like the one I used for Inktober, with one critical difference. The first page had an inscription from him.

Don't Let the muggles get you down - Ron Weasley

Isn't that what art is really all about? You can't let the muggles get you down. You fight back with colour and line and composition and the love it takes to create something. 

Looking back, I won't pretend 2019 wasn't a hard year. I knew it would be, and it was. But something good came out of it. I haven't figured out what all my illustrious goals will be for 2020, but with the right friends, attitude and hobbies, I think I'll get through it.

Happy New Year, friends! May yours be filled with beautiful art.

Flaming Hot Garbage: 10 Trash Movies I Love

One of my favorite date activities has always been going to the movies. I've heard some people decry movie nights as a poor way to get to know a potential romantic partner, due to the sitting in a theater and not talking aspect. To those who say this, I counter: you clearly have never gone to a movie with me.

Several years ago, I went to see Oz the Great and Powerful with my then-boyfriend and another mutual friend, Justin. My boyfriend knew what he was getting himself into. Justin did not. After the movie was over, someone casually asked the question "what did you think?" and boy, did they find out.

For the sake of the story, I will refresh your memory that Oz the Great and Powerful is a garbage movie that doesn't deserve to exist and that's why you've forgotten about it. It's such an insignificant fart of a film, you couldn't afford the brain space for it, so you don't remember it.

I went into exhausting detail about all the plot, characterization and design elements that fell flat. All the reasons it sucked. As Justin later put it, by the time I was wrapping up, I'd convinced him it was probably the worst movie he'd ever seen. Then I ended with, "but overall, there were at least some visually appealing scenes and it was fun to go out, so I'm glad I saw it. I liked it."

My boyfriend burst out laughing. This was clearly not the first time I'd subjected him to this. Justin, on the other hand, gave up ever understanding my opinions.

Looking back, I think I was being a bit generous with that last comment. I knew I hated the film, but I had enjoyed myself, if for no other reason than what I stated earlier. I like going to movies. But also, there was a certain tension I felt in the movie theater that I think is more common than we acknowledge. Even though the film wasn't very good, I wanted to enjoy it, because it's frankly more fun to like something than to hate it.

With Oz the Great and Powerful, I never could fool myself. But that hasn't always been the case. There are some genuinely awful movies out there that I have enjoyed. And far more common, there are movies that lots of people don't like that I will get up on a podium and give impassioned speeches about how WRONG they are. What do you mean Ishtar is one of the worst movies of all time and almost killed the careers of Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty? Have you heard them sing "Wardrobe of Love?" It's brilliant!

So today, I'm celebrating movies I love that were panned by critics. Because who doesn't love a car wreck they just can't turn away from?

Methodology

First off, when talking about movies with other people, it always amazes me how often they beat up on film critics. For a lot of people, I think the opinions of critics seem arbitrary and no better an indicator of quality than the opinion of your next door neighbor. I bring this up because this is not my feeling at all. Generally speaking, I agree with critics about a lot of things and I absolutely do check reviews when selecting movies to see.

True, there are some caveats you have to keep in mind when reading reviews. They often go easier on kids movies than I would, since they aren't the intended audience and don't want to look like jerks for hating something their children love. They also as a group tend to LOVE movies that venerate Old Hollywood, on a level most average folk don't care about. For years, most film critics have been predominantly male, and so it's little surprise they tended to be hard on romantic comedies and other films that make women their primary audience. But even with these little notes I keep stacked in my brain, I find that critical acclaim is still a thing I trust and often finds aligns with my own feelings about a film.

This makes the cases where I don't agree with them all the more interesting. For example, Oz the Great and Powerful didn't do that badly. It got a modest 58% on Rotten Tomatoes. Not enough to have a Fresh rating, but barely below. Looking at that rating now seems ludicrous to me. Were we all sitting in the theater, trying to convince ourselves we liked a thing more than we did because it had a few pretty visuals? Or did it fall under my kid's movie corollary, where about 10% points are added simply because it's "for children?" I sure hope not, because man, that movie was way too violent for it to deserve to benefit from that rule.

But seriously. We're not here to talk about that movie. We're here to talk about better movies. Better movies that - not coincidentally - got lower ratings on Rotten Tomatoes. I use that site because, as an aggregate number, I think it provides a decent pulse on what a society "at large" thought of a film.

Broadly speaking, I think the movies below fall into three distinct categories, and I'll try to sort each one accordingly.

1) Panned by critics, loved by viewers/vindicated by history: These are the movies where it's pretty easy to argue that the critics were missing something. Maybe they were taking a film too seriously that really should have been judged for its spectacle, not its narrative depth. A perfect example of this would be a film like The Greatest Showman, which got a 56% rating from critics and an 86% from audiences.

2) Panned by critics, but with redeeming qualities: These movies have some genuine flaws, but also something that makes them interesting. Often, this overlaps with the other two categories, as it straddles the middle ground between them. For example, Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas is kinda weird and awful in parts, but wow, does Jim Carey commit and it's super quotable.

3) Trash/my brand of garbage: This movie is trash, but I love it. This will vary personally. For me, all the Pirates of the Caribbean movies fall here. (Except the first, which is genuinely great). I'm just always down for people in pirate costumes. Sue me.

But none of those made the list! Instead, I give you ten movies I would go to bat for. I've arranged them by descending Tomatometer score and conveniently, most of my favorites are at the very VERY bottom. Including the best of the bunch. So stick around, kids. The takes just get hotter and hotter.

AND NOW TO THE ACTUAL LIST!!!

10) A Knight's Tale

To Trudge

Tomatometer rating: 58%
Emily rating: Naked Chaucer

What it's about: Will Thatcher is a squire to an ailing knight, who dreams of changing his stars. When his master dies, Will fills in for him in a jousting tournament and from that, a new dream is born. Helped by plucky friends, and a down-on-his-luck writer, Will concocts a story that may just propel him to the new life he's always dreamed of.

Why did critics hate it? This loose retelling of the Canterbury Tales is, in a word... loose. Not only is the story more like a sports movie than anything truly medieval, but the soundtrack and costuming is ridiculously MTV inspired. That this is the first movie most people think of when picturing Geoffrey Chaucer no doubt gives some English majors heart palpitations. Also, let's be honest, the girl who plays Jocelyn can't act.

Verdict: Vindicated by History

If aggregate scoring is to be believed, this movie is of roughly the same quality as Oz The Great and Powerful. That thought alone boggles the mind. If the films on this list were arranged purely by enjoyment, this one would be near the top. It's one of my favorites and for years, it was a go-to when my mother and I couldn't decide on something to watch. As it stands, I think it's fair sitting it at the top of the list, because "A Knight's Tale is actually a pretty good movie!" isn't a very hot take.

This one is popular for lists of "best movies with low Rotten Tomato scores" because it's fantastic. For the first few minutes, the rock and roll music inter-cut with olden-timey dialogue might feel strange, but once your brain catches up, the mix really works. It's big, silly and odd, and unapologetic about those things. Plus, with the exception of Jocelyn, the cast is great. Alan Tudyk plays your new favorite angry ginger and Heath Ledger is at his most adorable as Will.

But the star of the show is Paul Bettany as Geoffrey Chaucer. Chaucer is kind of a perfect historical figure to do a movie like this around. He's not a sacred cow, like Shakespeare is, so he can be a rambunctious gambler who gets into trouble, yet still is flowery and brilliant when he needs to be, and no one is going to cry foul over his portrayal. He makes Ye Olde English literature look way cool, man! So show this to your teens and get them hip to the Cantebury Tales.

9) The Swan Princess

This is my idea of fun!

Tomatometer rating: 55%
Emily rating: Celestial Glory

What it's about: Prince Derek and Princess Odette are raised in neighboring kingdoms, by parents who would love to see the pair marry and join their lands together. But just as they start to develop feelings for each other, Odette is kidnapped by a sorcerer who transforms her into a swan and will only release her from the curse if she marries him. How will she get home and what is Derek to do without her?

Why did the critics hate it? Produced by Nest Entertainment, The Swan Princess is clearly on a smaller budget than the Disney princess movies it so desperately wants to be. There are times the animation is awkward and while it's cute, the film hardly offers anything to adult audiences.

Verdict: Appropriately rated/my trash

The Swan Princess isn't what I would call a bad movie, but it is one that I love more than it likely deserves. Certain parts really work. Despite featuring three animal side-kicks, none of them annoy me! And John Cleese as Jean-Bob the frog is downright charming. The music is mostly strong too. It's also the part of the movie that leaks the most Mormon-ness over the project. For the uninformed, Nest Entertainment was a company that got it's start doing Bible and Book of Mormon animated shorts for families of The Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The composer for the film was Lex de Azevedo, who was something of a big star for members of the church back in the Nineties. He really busts out the show tunes here, and the love ballad, "For Longer than Forever", is the most Mormon Princess song you will ever hear anywhere. My favorite song will always be "This is Not my Idea of Fun," which is unarguably the best sequence in the film. Little Derek and Odette punching each other while their parents plan their wedding is a mood.

ON THE OTHER HAND... the critics weren't wrong about the occasionally floopy animation. The proportions of everyone's bodies feels off, with most of the human characters sporting very long legs. But the movie's biggest problem (also my favorite thing) is Derek, who is a frickin' idiot. Sometimes the movie acknowledges this, but all too often, it doesn't. Like, guys. Go back and watch this. He nearly shoots Swan Odette multiple times. He's so bad at the hero thing, Bromley of all people needs to save his butt at the end.

I thoroughly enjoy how clueless Derek is, and get great pleasure out of quoting his more melodramatic lines. (The vow was for herrrrrrr!!!!!!) But quotability is not the same as quality, especially when the movie is going for the opposite emotion during the scene. And in the end, I always leave the movie feeling like Odette could do better. Like honestly, girl. You weren't wrong to get in that carriage at the beginning and leave.

8) Robin Hood

The face that launched a thousand furries.

Tomatometer: 54%
Emily Rating: Oo-de-lally

What it's about: Robin Hood and Little John running through the forest, jumping fences, dodging trees and trying to get away. Contemplating nothing but escaping, finally making it. Oo-de-lally, Oo-de-lally, golly, what a day.

Why did critics hate it? Produced during a downturn in the prospects of the Walt Disney Company, the film relies on an embarrassing amount of recycled animation and fails to reach the same dizzying heights of artistry and spectacle previous Disney films did. A symptom of trying to carry on Walt's legacy without anyone who possessed his vision.

Verdict: Vindicated by History

Not long ago, I polled my Facebook friends for their favorite, pre-1980s Disney animated movie. (that distinction might seem arbitrary, but there were some very important internal company shake-ups that happened to Disney in the Eighties that distinctly impacted the "eras" of Disney animation). For the most part, people were all over the map, picking favorites, but among the most interesting to me was the high popularity of Robin Hood. It did as well as any film for picks as a favorite, and even more people named it as their runner-up. This movie is very well loved now, so what changed?

Standing now from the perspective of modern Disney viewers, I think a lot of the reasons it got picked to pieces and flopped at the box office on release are exactly why it's so loved now. It is a small film. The animation is locked in the xerography days of animation, which led to the overall scratchy, cheap look. And it's no secret that several scenes use recycled animation sequences from previous films. But beyond the visual smallness, the story is small and simple too. You don't get the grand displays of emotion or villainy of previous Disney films, and certainly not the outright bombast of some more recent films. What looked like a step down in quality then now looks like a refreshing view of the past.

Remember when Disney films were about simple things? Like, a fox and hound are friends! This deer is growing up! A lady doggy falls in love with a stray boy doggy! Robin Hood and Little John running through the forest! Oo-de-lally!

To me, the music of the film best sums up why it worked so well. The folksy, quiet happiness of Robin Hood is infectious. None of the emotions feel forced, because they're allowed to exist on a smaller scale, making it one of the most sincere of the early Disney movies. Decades later, that sincerity allows the film to resonate and continue to find an audience.

Some of Disney's past films do get shoved to the side and ignored, as if they're embarrassments from an age out of touch with today's sensibilities. But not, it turns out, Robin Hood. Disney still promotes this one, realizing it did grow into a beloved classic, and that's where it deserves to stay.

7) What Dreams May Come

I miss Robin Williams

Tomatometer: 54%
Emily Rating: 365,780 gallons of paint

What it's about: Chris and Annie have endured hardship already in life, due to the loss of their children in a car crash four years previous. When Chris is also killed in a car crash, their bond is put even further to the test as he must pass on to Heaven while Annie spirals in depression on earth.

Why did critics hate it? While visually stunning, this movie bites off more than it can chew, says some potentially troubling things about life, death and atonement, and isn't as deep as it thinks it is.

Verdict: Flawed, but very, very interesting

I first saw this film in Art class in high school and that right there will tell you something about who it is for. This movie won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it is visually stunning, and I think it does a fabulous job of illustrating thoughts and emotions through art. Movies about the Afterlife are inherently tricky, since they often come into conflict with our own deeply held beliefs about death, which are understandably complicated.

It's also true that this movie doesn't have a lot that's terribly profound to say about death. It feels more like someone going, "hey, wouldn't be cool if heaven was like THIS???" rather than someone giving a thorough philosophical discussion on the nature of God and judgement and goodness and what we hope for in the world to come.

But I really can't overstate how gorgeous this movie is. In many ways, this is my version of The Greatest Showman. It's certainly not a big, peppy musical, but the joy of this film comes simply from looking at it and from Robin Williams turning in a tender, dramatic performance. Like Greatest Showman, it's easy to overthink.

Annie is an artist, and so when Chris arrives in Heaven, he discovers that all of the flowers and breathtaking vistas he sees around him are made of paint, a reflection of his love of her. When the plot later takes characters through literal Hell, this same artistic sensibility is there.

Do I think this movie is right about the afterlife? No. Do I agree with everything it says, especially about Annie's depression? Also no. But I still found this film incredibly moving, because it does say something about life as we know it here on earth; that we can sometimes glimpse Heaven through art and that our own love and imaginations build the world around us.

6) A Walk in the Clouds

The heart flutters.

Tomatometer: 44%
Emily Rating: KEANU REEVES!!!!

What it's about: Paul Sutton (Keanu Reeves!!!!) is a recently returned World War II vet, looking for work and trying to escape the horrors of his recent past. On the bus to Sacramento, he befriends Victoria Aragon, a Mexican-American graduate student who is terrified to return home to her family, as she is pregnant from a brief affair with one of her professors. Empathizing with her pain, Paul offers to go with her, introduce himself as her husband, and then "abandon her" so that her family only has to console her over a bad marriage, rather than deal with the shame of an affair. But when they arrive, complications ensue...

Why did critics hate it? Too sappy, too melodramatic, and who on earth thought casting Keanu Reeves was a good idea?

Verdict: Criminally Underrated

During my teens, I was slightly obsessed with Keanu Reeves. My friends thought I was nuts. Back in the 90s and early 2000s, he was still a laughing stock and often lampooned as a terrible actor. Still, I loved him, and this movie was a big part of why. As it turns out, I had the last laugh because now the whole world is obsessed with him and I get to shout "I TOLD YOU SO!" at the universe with great frequency.

This movie is sappy, but if you ask me, it is EXACTLY sappy enough. It's got a lot of the design and costume overindulgence we all love about period pieces, plus it focuses on a cast of characters who don't get featured very often in movies about post-war America. Victoria's family make up the bulk of the cast and along with all the romance, there are some thoughtful conversations about power and privilege in American society that take place. Little touches like this helped give the movie the depth that makes it more than just an overblown romantic fantasy.

But speaking of that fantasy for a moment, one thing reviewers were always wrong about was this idea that Keanu was a bad cast. Paul is a simple, kind-hearted, good man and as the world realizes now, Keanu just exudes simple goodness.

As a romance - and not even a romantic comedy - I think this movie may have suffered from the Old Boys Club of Hollywood a bit when reviews came in. My instinct tells me that this movie's primary audience is probably women, not that I'm saying men can't love this film too! Roger Ebert adored it. In fact, as good romance films have become more scarce in recent years, the few genuinely good rom-coms and romances garner better reviews than their counterparts of earlier years, even with predominantly male reviewers. Maybe we didn't realize how good we had it in the 90s. Not when it came to romance, and not when it came to Keanu Reeves.

Of all the movies on this list, this is probably the one that is a) the least well known while, b) deserving a comeback for modern audiences. If you can, go see it! Or better yet, come over to my house and we'll watch it together and swoon.

5) Miss Congeniality

That would be harsher punishments for parole violators, Stan.

Tomatometer: 42%
Emily Rating: I really do want world peace

What it's about: Grace Hart is a tough as nails FBI agent. But when a terrorist plot targets the Miss United States pageant, she's also the one woman on the force with a swimsuit body. Can she go undercover and save a group of women she's never taken seriously?

Why did critics hate it? A bad script and by-the-numbers plot drag down the film, despite Sandra Bullock's charm.

Verdict: Flawed, but pretty great

I'm not 100% sure what critics meant by "bad script" in this case. Unoriginal? Okay. Mean-spirited? At times, yes. But I can't shake the feeling the script isn't as bad as they think it is, because Sandra isn't just funny, she's flippin' hilarious. She nails the physical comedy, the line delivery, the facial expressions. Absolutely everything. Maybe the script wasn't much, but it gave her enough to work with.

Besides, she isn't the only funny person in this movie. Michael Cain is phenomenal, as are William Shatner, Candice Bergen and all the pageant girls. Perhaps the one place I see the script truly failing is with Benjamin Bratt's character, who is supposed to be a likable love interest, but still comes off as a misogynistic pig. I don't blame Bratt though. I find his performance enjoyable, and it's more when I replay his lines in my head and picture them being said by anyone with less handsome swagger that I really notice the ick factor.

Still, overall, the cast is great and I don't care that the plot is unoriginal. To me, this movie is funny enough and quotable enough it's flaws don't really matter. And while it's core, emotional message isn't the strongest, it does still nail some key points about women learning to value other women who don't resemble them. And that's pretty cool.

4) Robin Hood: Men in Tights

My, there are a lot of Robins on this list.

Tomatometer: 40%
Emily Rating: The night is young, and you're so beautiful.

What it's about: After the success of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Mel Brooks decided to lend his signature brand of satire to everyone's favorite Merry Men.

Why did critics hate it? Mel Brooks traded much of his sharp-witted satire for outright, pointless silliness. Also: too many gross jokes and bad puns.

Verdict: Cult Classic

This movie is based on another movie. How weird is that? Actually, a lot of scenes are direct parodies of segments of Prince of Thieves, a movie I have never seen and likely never will. Going over pop culture history, I've learned that the original was absurdly popular upon its initial release, but since then, the parody has completely outstripped it in recognition among younger audiences. Did Mel Brooks inadvertently destroy Prince of Thieves with this film? Because that would be amazing, considering critics didn't find the film satirical enough.

There's not doubt that Men in Tights is silly. And yes, I will concede that some of the jokes are kind of painful. But the overall product still works. All the performances are great. This is the best use of Carey Elwes post-Princess Bride. Everyone from Marion to Prince John to the Sheriff of Rottingham to Broomhilda to Little John to Ahchoo to Blinkin to Latrine gets great scenes with great lines. Everyone looks like they're having fun being in this movie.

If you haven't noticed by now, I have a soft spot for comedies, and this one has always made me laugh. I touched on it recently in my post on Greatest Pre-Dramatic Kiss Love Songs as well, so if you need a more thorough discussion of why particular scenes in this movie are so good, look no further.

As a cult classic, this isn't a film that needs me to defend it. A couple years ago, I showed it to a friend, and while he was young enough I had to explain a few VERY 90s jokes to him (clap on lights, Nike pumps, the whole idea there was a film called Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves that had been popular), he still loved it. If you somehow haven't seen it, give it a try. It's very silly.

3) Ernest Saves Christmas

Never has Santa looked so much like a mall Santa
And honestly, that says it all.

Tomatometer: 36%
Emily Rating: Merry Christmas, knowhatImean?

What it's about: Everyone's favorite idiot, Ernest P. Worrell, must help Santa Claus in his quest to find a new Santa to replace him and carry on the Christmas magic. Hijinx ensue.

Why did critics hate it? Oh no... not this idiot again. The Ernest movies were boldly, purposefully dumb and this movie is no exception.

Verdict: My precious, precious, lovely garbage

Nostalgia is a great liar. Every Christmas, I watch this movie with my family. Every year, we laugh our heads off. We were blissfully unaware of how bad this movie was until my siblings got married and their spouses informed us this movie was basically our hazing ritual. Survive this, and you get to be a Paxman.

Ernest Saves Christmas is a mess of bad acting, cheap costumes and Jim Varney mugging for the camera so aggressively, it's a miracle his face doesn't fall off. The plot frequently breaks for meandering skits and the Florida setting makes the whole film feel barely Christmassy.

And this movie is so darn quotable, none of that matters.

Maybe the awkward line delivery helps. Unimpressive bits like "sounds like a database problem" become recognizable because who says that??? Besides which, there's some genuine sweetness beneath all the utter insanity on display here.

If you ever have the chance to see this movie, try the first ten minutes and if you find yourself laughing, leave it on. You'll know by then it it's your cup of tea. Otherwise, it's fair to give a pass.

Unless you want to marry a Paxman in which case, congratulations. You're watching this monster every year for the rest of your life.

2) Hook

I miss Robin Williams

Tomatometer: 26%
Emily Rating: Childhood nostalgia in a can

What it's about: After leaving Neverland, Peter Pan grows up to become Peter Banning, a boring, workaholic, middle-aged man who is out of touch with his children. But when Captain Hook kidnaps his children in a bid to draw Peter back into their feud, he must rediscover the child and hero inside himself to save his family.

Why did critics hate it? Lavish production design does not make up for a strange, uneven and uninspired take on the Peter Pan myth. Perhaps most damning, Steven Spielberg hates this movie and thought he failed it as a director.

Verdict: Vindicated by History, despite some flaws

Of all the films on this list, Hook has probably benefited the most from collective nostalgia. If you are a Millennial of a certain age (as am I) you love Hook, and there is no shortage of people across the internet jumping up to defend it. Something about it really spoke to its target audience, and I defy you to find someone who watched it as a child and didn't at some point chant Rufio's name along with the Lost Boys.

Ironically, a common thought at the time was that this movie, which was slow moving and took quite a while to get to the final battle (or any battle, for that matter), would probably appeal more to parents than children. It was too syrupy and sentimental, and weighed down by a massive cast of sub-par child actors. That sort of thing seemed more like what parents wanted their kids to enjoy, not what kids actually liked.

Looking back, they aren't entirely wrong. The child actors aren't the best (save Rufio, whom I will hear nothing against) but even as a kid, I can't remember caring about that. I was far more fixated on Peter Pan and Hook themselves. In the early 90s, Robin Williams starred in a parade of kids movies that made him THE super star of my generation. Both he and Dustin Hoffman turn in fantastic, albeit non-conventional performances. These aren't the same characters from the children's book, but with such a well-known story, there was a certain fun to that.

Another common criticism of the film is that nothing in the Neverland sequences feels real. At first, that might sound like a ridiculous criticism, since we're talking about a magic island filled with pirates, but think, for a moment, of how real Middle Earth and Hogwarts seem in their films. Or, if you want a more direct comparison, check out the 2003 remake of Peter Pan, which creates such a vivid, rich Neverland, Hook pales in comparison. Several reviews compared the Hook sets to seeming more like interactive theme park attractions than anywhere people actually lived. The pirate ship has a baseball diamond and boards that pop up when you step on them! The Lost Boys live in a jungle skate park! TOTALLY RADICAL!!!

As an adult, I see the design flaws now, but... here's the thing. As a kid, living in Disneyland WAS my ultimate Neverland. Sure, the magic feast the Lost Boys have is mostly just red and blue piles of whipping cream instead of actual, tasty food, but is that such a bad thing when you're seven years old? Maybe Hook lacked something to make it truly "great" but it was far from a train wreck either. Where Hook fails as art, it tends to succeed as fun, and for that reason, most people embrace it now as an underrated gem.

1) Oscar

What an honest looking bunch of guys.

Tomatometer: 12%
Emily Rating: HOW IS THIS SO LOW??? SERIOUSLY!!!!

What it's about: Gangster Angelo "Snaps" Provolone promises his dying father that he'll leave the rum running behind and finally go straight. But on the day he plans to invest in a bank and become an honest man - the first day he can't retaliate against his enemies - his accountant comes to him with a request: he wants to marry Angelo's daughter and he's stolen $50,000.00 of his boss's money to make sure that happens. Farce ensues.

Why did critics hate it? Sly Stallone is awkwardly cast in a farce that doesn't work and is too slow moving.

Verdict: Near perfect and I will die on this hill

With most of the other movies on this list, I at least "get" where reviewers were coming from. But this one just yanks my chain, because I honestly don't know where things went wrong. Unlike most of this list, this was not a film I watched in childhood and not one I have absurd amounts of untested nostalgia for. It's just a fun, goofy farce that I loved from the first time I saw it.

This movie is arguably my dad's favorite and there are few things he loves more than finding a new friend who hasn't seen it and getting them to watch it for the first time. He's done this dozens of times, which I've often been privy to, and without fail, people laugh. When I do meet people who know this film already, they love it and are absolutely stunned when I tell them how critically panned it was upon release.

Perhaps the one molecule of truth in what the critics said is that Stallone was a weird cast not because he butchers the film, but because everything he represented in audiences eyes at the time was counter what this movie is about. It's an absurd throwback to old mobster comedies and his image was more tied to gangster movies where people actually get shot up by the end.

There are also a few scenes that drag on. It often feels like they pause to let the audience laugh at their jokes periodically, which I would consider a bigger offense if not for the fact that most people I've watched this with do, in fact, laugh uproariously during the pauses. In other instances, the pauses themselves feel like part of the joke. There's something wonderful about watching Stallone bang his head on a table while Tim Curry watches on in pity.

I'm not sure what reviewers expected. Did they want something more adult? Less silly? That seems to be a reoccurring question in these reviews, and I think that's what I take away from this whole exercise. In my mind, silliness is worthwhile. Not everything needs to be sharp or satirical in order to be clever. There's value in a sight gag, whether it's Ernest P. Worrell covered in snakes or Chaucer walking naked down a road. There's joy to be had in worlds built from paint and amusement park equipment. A good non-sequitur about harsher punishments for parole violators or Nike pumps is sometimes what it takes to make a script worth quoting. There is, in my mind, an art to silliness. And if you're looking for a masterclass in silliness, Oscar is the perfect place to start.