Topics: Stephanie M.

One of the "hottest" books on Amazon right now is Chain Gang All-Stars, by Nana Kwame Adjel-Brenyah. It's billed as a hard-hitting drama in which American prisoners compete for their freedom on a bloody, Gladiators-style reality show on which "elimination" means actual death. Detractors look askance at the hype and writing style, but despite the book's newness, Adjel-Brenyah already has plenty of fans.

Chain Gang All-Stars brings to mind several other novels with this "reality show" conceit, from more lighthearted examples like Chicken Sisters and Take the Lead to Death Warrant and Cinderella is Dead. Whether or not elimination from these fictional reality competitions means one's life is forfeit, books like these usually offer discussion fodder regarding the deceptive nature of reality TV and social media, the meaning of trust and alliances, and other multifaceted topics.

Examine some examples of "reality literature" from any genre you like (thriller, rom-com, YA, or any combination). You could, of course, include Chain Gang All-Stars. Compare and contrast your examples, looking at character development, depth of themes, use of tropes, and any other issues you like. Examine what this particular subgenre is trying to say to readers, and how writers might keep its messages fresh in a world that continues in saturation of fast-paced reality shows, online influencers, cancel culture, and more.

True crime documentaries and narratives are intensely popular, particularly on streaming services. Many people, particularly women, report watching this type of documentary for relaxation, much to the amusement of social media (e.g., memes, reels, comedy bits). A plethora of true crime podcasts also exist, and these often get listeners talking "in real time" over radio waves when other subjects may not.

However, fictional crime was a popular genre long before true crime, and remains so. Mystery movies, detective television series, and movies centered on the lives, escapes, and even last days of inmates, garner tons of views, reviews, and discussions every day. Some fictional crime stories, such as The Shawshank Redemption or The Great Escape, have taken their place among "classic" films.

With true and fictional crime getting so much attention, many questions arise. Namely, which type attracts what sort of audience, and why? Is there any overlap, and where does that exist? Perhaps most importantly, is there any way to tell whether true or fictional crime is more appealing?

Analyze this last question in light of the other two, as well as factors such as the nature of the crimes (e.g., "cozy mysteries" vs. "harder" crimes), storytelling choices and mechanics, casting choices, or any other factors you choose. If you choose to gear your argument toward one side or the other, choose some examples to prove why that version is the stronger, more appealing one.

The original Jumanji (1995) remains a nostalgic classic almost 30 years after its release. Its technologically updated sequel might have gotten the side-eye from the original film's devotees, but also pulled in a flock of new fans, as evidenced when a third movie invited viewers back to its jungle. Zathura, which featured a space-themed board game, is arguably less beloved than the Jumanji films but has plenty of fans. And the new film Family Pack has thrown players of yet another magical game into 1497 France to face werewolves while grappling with their personal problems, deep emotions, and general dysfunction.

Analyze the presence and appeal of magical board games in family films. What makes magical board games the right catalysts to bring families, siblings, or even strangers (thus, "found family") together in these films, as opposed to say, video games or a game on the sports field or court? Do these films have something special to say to families in today's technology-driven age and if yes, what is it? Do "magical board game" stories have potential as a bigger subgenre, and if yes, what other board game themes, family structures, or themes of the human condition could be explored? Use the mentioned films as a jumping off point, but feel free to explore what as-yet-untapped plots might look like.

Whether or not it's "spooky season," the horror genre has hordes of devotees, and well it should. Horror gives us a safe outlet for facing our fears, exploring our inner demons, and pitting our inner heroes against some of the most frightening scenarios ever conceived in creators' minds. Whether in books, in film, on the stage, or in some other medium, horror has earned its place as a revered genre.

However, the 21st century has exposed a particular underbelly of horror: ableism. Many if not most horror villains either have some sort of disfigurement or disability, or can be read or "coded" as such. Frankenstein's monster is a reanimated, grotesque corpse who speaks and acts like a caricature of an intellectually disabled man. The impetus for Dracula and vampires came from sufferers of porphyria, a fairly rare disease still poorly understood. Several seasons of American Horror Story, notably Asylum and Freak Show, paint disabled characters as frightening or grotesque if not outright villainous; at best, these characters are pitiable. The recent TV series Changeling centers on a demonic being whose changeling status has been compared to autism for centuries. Stephen King's disabled horror characters aren't villains, but are stereotypes, and pop up in almost all his novels.

These examples might tempt us to "cancel" horror altogether, and certainly, the ableism within warrants serious discussion. But is there a way to stay true to the horror genre in coming years without sacrificing its conventions (e.g., updating classics to the point of unrecognizability)? Can a form of "new horror" decry ableism while bringing true dignity to coded disabled characters, or characters who are shunned or feared? Discuss.

Animated series such as Hazbin Hotel and Disney's Little Demon have gained popularity over the last year. Some fans are attracted to elements like the musical structure of Hazbin, while others are drawn to sharply drawn and multifaceted characters, as well as irreverent humor and a safe way to explore the darker side of the afterlife.

Yet, just as many other media consumers find this "demonic" animation offensive. For some, it goes against the tenets of their personal faith, particular Abrahamic religions, to consume these shows. Others find the demonic characters and landscape inappropriate for the kids at which some animation is aimed, or inappropriate for a mixed audience. Still others question why this material is so easily greenlit and produced while other material, such as films like Sound of Freedom, faced backlash and "cancelling" attempts due to graphic, yet realistic content at least somewhat based on true events.

Analyze and discuss this "demonic" animation. Beyond its target and niche audiences, does it have any merit and if yes, for whom or in what way? Should there be a "heavenly" counterpart, and if yes, what would that look like (if not, why wouldn't it work)? If demonic animation should be "replaced" because it's inappropriate in any way, are there shows or other forms of media that would attract audiences the same way?

It seems like Mario and Luigi have been around since time immemorial. What began as an eight-bit video game with the goal of rescuing a princess from a dragon in the '80s and '90s, has become a veritable empire of games. From the 3-D Nintendo 64 edition of the original, which expanded Mario's worlds and took the U.S. by storm circa 1996, to the nostalgic yet evergreen Mario Kart, to the newest addition Princess Peach Showtime, Mario has reached a broader audience than perhaps any other game franchise.

Discuss the popularity of the Mario-verse and why its creators have been so successful in marketing not only the original games, but also games in completely different genres (racing, fashion and dress-up, and so on). You might choose to discuss characters and how their universes and personalities have expanded over time. Finally, you could speculate on where the Mario-verse might go next, and what worlds and ideas Gen Z and Alpha might find most appealing.

Love triangles are often associated with romantic fiction, but are also common in other genres like young adult, fantasy, or speculative fiction. A love triangle usually involves a female protagonist being pulled between two male love interests, but can be gender-inverted or use LGBTQ examples.

This trope is popular among many readers, but just as many claim to hate love triangles. Detractors say the trope is overused, with players often too attractive or otherwise perfect to be believed, and surrounding situations that are contrived if not outright cliche.

Using some of your favorite–and perhaps least favorite–examples of love triangles, discuss what sets some apart from others. What does it take to write a love triangle well? What are some common mistakes authors make when writing this trope? Why and how can a badly written love triangle still have legions of fans? Has the trope evolved in any significant way, and if so, what new versions and expectations should authors be aware of?

Audrey Hepburn, Julie Andrews, Vivien Leigh, Marilyn Monroe, and several other actresses are legends in Hollywood history. Although most are now deceased, these women have made indelible marks on their genres and the film industry as a whole. Most of these "screen queens" are in fact so iconic, one mention of certain films they starred in brings that actress to mind. Some have played roles so well, their names are inextricably linked with their characters, to the point that some viewers believe no one else could ever fill that actress' shoes.

Compare and contrast 2-3 of these "screen queens," or others you might think of. What did they bring to iconic roles that arguably, no one else could? What did their presence do for Hollywood history, and what changes did they precipitate? Can any of today's actresses hope to live up to these women, and are there in fact "modern" versions of them today? If yes, do the modern actresses do their forerunners justice?

The Twelve Days of Christmas is one of the best known, and arguably more exhausting and annoying, Christmas songs in existence. It's so complex and has been around for so long, one might expect it to have vanished from the carol canon decades ago.

However, the carol lives on, as do the stories and legends behind it, and the projects it has inspired. Origin stories float around social media every year. Perhaps the most popular claims that the carol was a way for Catholics in King James I's era to express their faith without fear of persecution (the partridge is Jesus Christ, the three French hens are faith, hope, and charity, and so on). Another origin story claims every gift in the carol is a different bird, not just the gifts directly associated with birds (e.g., "five golden rings" refers to ring-necked pheasants).

Along with this, touching or funny riffs on the carol are found in almost every fandom and subculture (Harry Potter, Redneck 12 Days, 12 Days based around political satire, and more). Hallmark's expansive list of holiday movies includes no less than two based on the conceit of giving 12 meaningful gifts. Even some of today's more orthodox church denominations (Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and others), still treat Christmas as a 12-day affair, ending on the Day of Epiphany.

Examine how and why the 12 Days of Christmas, song and concept, are so ingrained in our culture even if not everyone celebrates the holiday as such. Pick a few origin stories or 12 Days-inspired projects to analyze. What does this carol and concept mean for us? What is it about the concept that has staying power, even if some people dislike the song? Are some inspired projects better at capturing the spirit of 12 Days than others? What might a literal or figurative "12 Days" look like for secularized culture, and would it make the holidays better or worse? Both? Discuss.

In 2005, Carol Abersold and her daughter Chanda Bell dreamed up a new Christmas tradition. Parents could purchase one of Santa's elves, a cute little creature sent to "scout" for Santa and report whether the kids in a certain home had been good. The elf would stay with their chosen family from December 1-25, getting up to creative antics while the kids were asleep every night.

The combination elf doll and book were an instant smash hit with their target demographic. In almost 20 years since inception, the original white, blue-eyed male elf has received female counterparts, as well as Black and Latino/a counterparts, male and female. Parents of disabled children have bought or handmade accessories like wheelchairs or braces for their dolls. The Elf on the Shelf has its own theme song and has spawned a made-for-TV movie, as well as a 2023 elf-themed baking competition on Food Network.

However, not everyone wants this elf on their shelf. Every year, parents flock to social media to panic–"It's almost December 1 and I can't find the elf/I need an elf!" They commiserate with fellow parents and guardians–"I hate this [darn] elf!" Parents, teachers, and child development experts have excoriated the elf as a "Christmas spy," a tool that encourages extreme behaviorist thinking and doesn't contribute to concepts of grace, making mistakes and learning from them, or doing well without doing perfectly. In a season where kids are already excited, anxious, and overstimulated, the elf feels like an enemy. Plus, many parents find it "just plain creepy."

Discuss the pros, cons, and cultural impact of the Elf on the Shelf, as well as any alternatives you know (e.g., Kindness Elves, elves who use their time to make the journey to Bethlehem, elves who celebrate Hanukkah or Diwali). Why do you think culture embraced or rejected the Elf on the Shelf? In what capacity if any was it needed? Do alternatives "work," or do we need better alternatives, if any? Will the phenomenon ever leave us? Choose a couple of these or other questions upon which to expound.

Within the fiction writing community and especially on social media outlets like Tumblr, there is a particular type of writing that draws a subset of writers. This writing type is called "whump." Broadly defined, "whump" happens when one character gets hurt, physically, emotionally, or otherwise, and must receive care from another character, or conversely, endure the trauma alone.

Whump can take many forms and be as innocent or graphic as the writer wants, although most writers will post trigger or content warnings if they intend to go into certain details. Graphic or not though, many writers confine their enjoyment to whump communities for fear of being misjudged as sadists, masochists, or otherwise unstable. Others write whump to the exclusion of other types or scenes, which may raise questions about their growth in the craft of writing.

Examine the many reasons why fiction writers love whump. Are they all looking for catharsis for their own trauma? Are some of them caretakers who enjoy seeing characters rescued and nursed to health? Why do you think these writers get judged for liking and creating whump content, whereas a whump reader is less likely to be judged for reading a violent or horror novel? Are there some forms of whump that take the concept too far? And perhaps most importantly, what does this type of writing offer to the fiction community, that no other writing does?

Most of us grew up with some form of the classic novel. Whether we read abridged, illustrated versions for kids, encountered them in school, or watched TV or movie versions (e.g., Wishbone, Disney adaptations), most of us know at least some of the traditional "classics" of the Western canon. These include but are not limited to works by Dickens, Steinbeck, Morrison, Lee, Shakespeare, Austen, and Wells.

As our culture becomes more aware of concepts like marginalized experience and cultural appropriation though, our relationships with classic literature may change. We now critique certain examples of classics because of what they imply about non-Western, non-white cultures, or what they leave out. We critique them based on the roles women do or don't play, or how characters of color are treated, or whether characters coded LGBT are sympathetic. As a disabled woman, I find myself being harsher with books like Of Mice and Men or The Color Purple because of how they treat members of my groups.

How does this heightened critique and awareness mean we should treat the classics? That is, can we still learn valuable things from these books even if they are cringe-worthy in their rhetoric or character portrayals? How can we engage with these books, without spending all our time on the problematic parts? Some of these classics have been retold because of heightened critique; was this a good or bad idea? And, are these critiques even valid, or should we simply say, "This was written in another time and we should simply accept that?" Discuss.

Social media is buzzing about a disturbing, but not necessarily new trend–the cancelling of sapphic television series, especially on streaming services like Netflix. "Sapphic" refers to content "of or relating to sexual attraction or interplay between women," and disgruntled and confused viewers aren't seeing enough of it. They point out the short-lived nature of once-popular series such as The Baby-Sitters' Club (2020) and Paper Girls, to name only two.

Even more disturbingly, some series that might not be called sapphic, but are certainly women-centered, have been cancelled, were panned by critics, or have disappeared into long hiatuses. (See Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and Anne With an E for examples).

Discuss why these series, especially on Netflix, might have been disproportionately represented on the chopping block. Do the "powers that be" see women-centered content, particularly the sapphic, as a threat, and if yes, why? Do cancellations happen just because of the nature of Netflix–shorter seasons and encouragement of "bingeing"–but if yes, why is male-centered content not cancelled as well? Do female viewers want different types of content, and if yes, what do they want? What would it take to bring female-centered shows, sapphic and otherwise, front and center on streaming services again?

A popular meme showing Blue of Blue's Clues fame and Bluey of the eponymous Australian cartoon reads, "Every so often, a blue dog appears to guide a new generation." Tongue-in-cheek humor aside, one cannot deny the popularity and relevance of Blue and Bluey for millennials and Gen Z in particular.

Examine and analyze these two blue canines, their compatriots, and their shows. Compare and contrast them. What makes them both so engaging, yet unique to the generations at which they were originally aimed? What makes both so special for both the children and parents who watch them now? Why have both shows succeeded in netting older "periphery demographics" (e.g., older elementary students) where other shows have not? Or conversely, if one show or the other drove, or is driving, other older viewers up the proverbial wall, why is that?

Currently, split time novels are some of the most popular in the fiction market. These novels usually pair a historical protagonist with a contemporary one, connecting their stories across time through similar themes and motifs or sometimes a significant object or event. For instance, one protagonist might have lived through World War I or II, and the other might be that protagonist's grandchild or great-grandchild looking for answers regarding what happened to that grandparent during the war years, but the other family members never talk about.

Despite the popularity of these stories, they're arguably becoming formulaic. Some time periods and plotlines are becoming overdone. For instance, it is no longer uncommon for World War II to be the featured historical period. A contemporary protagonist is often drawn to care about the past only if he or she "gets something out of it," such as a promotion at work or a "last chance" to connect with a grandparent dealing with dementia (the question becomes, why didn't the grandchild ever attempt to connect before)?

Discuss some of the more popular split time novels and what sets them apart from their myriad counterparts. Discuss what historical time periods aren't being taken advantage of right now that could be, or what plotlines contemporary characters could experience. For instance, could time travel be a possibility? Body or identity switches? Historical and future timelines?

Disney's Frozen burst into our theaters and onto our small screens in 2013, and no one has "let it go" since. The film became a franchise, with rumors of a third installment coming in 2023 or later. But Frozen is not the only wintry tale media consumers love. "Winter tales" can be found across mediums, from TV series like Game of Thrones whose tagline is "Winter is Coming," to a plethora of books with titles like The Snow Child, WinterFrost, and Girls Made of Snow and Glass. Many of today's super-powered or "chosen one" protagonists also have winter-related powers; Queen Elsa might be the most obvious, but there is also Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardians, as well as Freya from Snow White and the Huntsman.

Winter permeates the arts, no matter the season. Yet what is it about this season, out of four, that captures the imagination of writers, filmmakers, and other artists? Analyze a few prevalent winter tales across mediums, looking for commonalities among characters, character arcs, plot threads, powers, and more. Could the other three seasons garner this kind of attention, and if yes, what would it take to make that happen? Are artists, authors, and others who craft "winter tales" trying to make a statement about their art, themselves, or humanity through winter? If yes, what is it? Discuss.

The most recent horror film on Hollywood's docket is Prey for the Devil, which concerns Sister Ann. This devout nun wants to be an exorcist and would be great at it, but her training school accepts only men. Yet Sister Ann may be the only one who can help the patients in the school's attached hospital for the possessed, including a ten-year-old girl. The blending of Christianity and horror in this film is by turns respectful to the Church and seems to encourage audiences to explore, if not root for, the demonic.

It's a conundrum found in many similar films, such as The Exorcist and The Nun. The question is why this blend comes up so often, and especially why the Catholic Church is presented on the front lines in this murky battle between good and evil (they aren't always on the "good" side). Are these portrayals as balanced as they could and arguably should be? How can or should horror films stay true to their genre, while portraying Christians or perhaps people of other faiths, as those who would protect or save innocents from the demonic? What do these films say about spiritual battle lines in real life? Discuss.

The '90s is fairly famous for several family-oriented, nostalgic sports films. From Angels in the Outfield to the Mighty Ducks trilogy, from the Air Bud franchise to Like Mike, Miracle, and Space Jam, during the decade, these films seemed to be everywhere. At the time, they were lauded as feel-good films the whole family could enjoy, particularly dads and uncles who might be moved to tears by memories of their former glories on the field or court. In the ensuing decades, these films are still respected, but also maligned as corny or overly inspirational depending on who you ask.

Analyze the impact of the nostalgic sports film. Why did '90s audiences seem to need so many of them, and why did they all seem to have such an inspirational format? Did they cater to a specific audience with a specific set of beliefs or aspirations? Were they meant to? Are they seen as overly nostalgic now simply because audiences have changed, or do we get our "heart" and "inspiration" in different ways? If the latter, where do we get it? Can the family-oriented, nostalgic sports film make a comeback? If so, what should it look like?

On June 3, 2013, comedian and actor Greg Edwards began a series of web videos called Thug Notes. Using the persona Sparky Sweets, Ph.D., Edwards summarized and analyzed classic novels using a mix of modern language and "street slang" (e.g., a character who is murdered is "iced" or "murked," a hard-working character is said to be "hustlin'.")

Thug Notes' mix of humor, slang, and absolute respect for classic literature helped the series carve a unique niche in the world of web and educational videos. Each video has garnered a plethora of views, and the series' popularity has encouraged viewers to read or reread books that might not have felt accessible before (many "newer" videos contain a promotion that begins, "Hey, get the book!" followed by a web address at which to do so).

Discuss the impact of Thug Notes, using any of these or other elements. You might choose to discuss favorite episodes, or compare and contrast certain episodes. Also, discuss whether Thug Notes, which has not posted new content in a while, would be an acceptable platform for discussions of more contemporary literature, particularly that which is currently under censorship. Discuss whether a series similar to Thug Notes would work for other subjects. For instance, could there be a Thug Notes-style series for math? History? Theatrical productions?

September 11, 2001 changed the world as we know it. Mere weeks after the terrorist attack that destroyed the Twin Towers, artists from all mediums responded to the tragedy with forms of self-expression that gave themselves and their consumers safe, multifaceted outlets to express their complex emotions. September 11 is now the subject of everything from hard-hitting documentaries and touching memoirs to gentle, yet serious episodes of kids' shows and perhaps controversial country-western songs.

Analyze and discuss some of your favorite, or least favorite, tributes to September 11 within the arts. What makes these tributes powerful, or conversely, disturbing or controversial? Which pieces do the best job of honoring the 9/11 survivors and victims? Do we need more 9/11 pieces, and if so, what should their focus and goals be? Can new pieces be tied into more current tragedies, historical ones, or a mix of the two?