The Top 5 Most Awesome Heroes In Fantasy

Greetings all,

So I was running dry on ideas. I’d been doing a lot of update posts and bracket posts, and I felt it was time to do something different. That got me thinking about one of my favorite reasons I read fantasy: the idea of “who would win in a fight?”

Therefore, I decided to do a “Top 5” list. What is this list based on? My opinion! It’s my list. I hope this post encourages healthy (kind-hearted) debate. It may even inspire a bracket.

What do I base my opinion on?

That’s a great question. The first is memorability. I’m going to provide the five characters who came to my mind. If I have to try to remember you, you clearly aren’t that powerful. The down side? I honestly haven’t read that much. Oh I read a lot, but there are books I haven’t read (again why I hope you lovely readers would be interested in enlightening a fan). So, you can also look at my “read” bookshelf on Goodreads to tell me if there’s someone in a book I read that you think would top any of these five. From there, it’s based on sheer power and capability.  Limitations are also factored. for instance, you won’t find an Aes Sedai on this list. All I’d have to do is not threaten them, and, though they could make life inconvenient, they couldn’t hurt me. The rest is just me thinking about what I’ve read about them doing and how impressive it is.

Now that the logistics are covered, let’s see who’s the top dog!

#5: Ian Troy, The Crown of Stones  I honestly had a fight with myself about this.  Do I select the characters “at their most powerful” or their power level (or lack there of) at the end of the last book I read. Since most nerds like me will always argue fights on a “height-of-power” scale, I went with that as well. Ian begins the whole series with a display of power that would put any on this list on notice. Ian stops at number four because the crown serves as a weak point that could be exploited.  Since I have to take the character at the height of his power, I must also take him at the most dangerous of issues weaknesses too.  Ian could honestly destroy a world, but his power comes at the expense of the lives of others. This wouldn’t be a problem for a villain, but a former addict trying to protect life just wouldn’t consciously throw power around at the expense of (possibly) those he loves.

 #4: Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings: I honestly had a lot of trouble placing him. As one reads LotR, it’s easy to understand he has the potential to lay waste to a number of opponents. The thing is, we never really see him do much in the way of magic. We feel like he could, so I have him all the way up to number three just for that reason, but he never really displayed it. If someone said to drop him to 4 or even 5, I don’t know that I could argue, except that the guy seems so powerful.  Therefore, I met in the middle.  This ranking (I feel) gives the potential of his power respect while also taking into account how little power he actually used in the books.

#3: Vin, Mistborn: I think she’d fall in this spot even without the “at her most powerful” rule. She wasn’t just powerful, she used that power in clever ways that made it pretty much unfair to fight her (unless you’re essentially a god). The events of the book take that seeming unfairness and make it down right laughable to think she couldn’t take out pretty much anyone. Allomancy is just an awesome power, and a full Mistborn is pretty much impossible to beat if you’re limited to a single power, but not if you’re using the One Power.

#2: Rand al’Thor, The Wheel of Time: The Dragon Reborn already has the strength to “break the world.” The One Power is such that some serious power get’s flung around. With this power, characters can make or flatten mountains. They can even use a weapon so great it erases one from existence (or even burns away parts of their life).  There are even ways to amplify that power! It’s honestly ridiculous when I think about it, but it’s so fun to read. While Rand could break a planet, he could make one, so he falls second to number one on the list.

#1: Harmony, The Cosmere: Sure, anyone who follows my blog knows Sanderson is my favorite author. But I dare you to point out a character who has god-power X 2. The Cosmere surrounds sixteen shards of what was once a whole. Each single shardholder is known as a god in their system. Harmony has two. Even Sanderson has said flatly that Harmony is the most powerful shard-holder for this reason. 2-4 could probably end a world, but Harmony could create one if he wanted. Some may argue limitations here, but only one shardholder to my knowledge is actually limited. Two were limited for reasons explained in the books. But, as far as I know, Harmony could do whatever he wanted, and no one could stop him. At his most powerful, there isn’t a fantasy hero (or even many villains) I can think of who could stop him.

So there’s my list! What do you think? Who would you add to the list of “most powerful”? Who would you rank higher than my guys? Do you think I got my list wrong? I want to hear it folks!

Thanks for reading,

Matt

A Thin Line Between Loyalty and Boring. The Value of Conflict Between Supporting Characters

Image from comicbook.com

I’m making my way through my TBR pile, and I noticed something in a book that drew my attention. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s probably not a good thing. I’ll keep things vague because there’s enough bad pub out there regarding books, and I’m not in any way trying to bash anyone. However, we can look at what some people do and make notes.

We have a  main character who has a sidekick. This sidekick is loyal and steadfast. My argument is this character might have reached the point to where that steadfastness is not only hard to believe, but has become boring because no matter what the main character puts that sidekick through, the character simply keeps being this amazingly helpful, understanding person.

While I’ve recently come to believe that conflict in stories is a must, and I think authors should find as many opportunities for conflict as possible, I’m not in any way saying there needs to be some sort of fight scene or argument in every scene. Sometimes you need tension. Sometimes you need support. The thing is though, no one can be stalwart and reliable 100 percent of the time.

From a human perspective, even lifelong friends get frustrated with one another. My brother-and-I are such close friends and so well regarded, that family members have on occasion asked one of us what we wanted and then bought it for the other.  When I go shopping, I just buy something I really want and give it to him. That doesn’t mean we’ve never fought. From that same perspective, friendships are tested through adversity. The point in live isn’t to always agree and support each other.  Support is a thing, but support doesn’t always imply, helping or (more importantly) rolling with whatever the MC wants.

From a writer’s perspective, any author should be seriously worried when character reactions or actions become predictable. Predictable characters are boring, and boring characters lead to unread books.

Disagree?  Let’s take a look at some of the most famous “friends” in fiction or entertainment:

Let’s get the obvious out of the way.  Didn’t we all see Civil War? I mean, the movie made metaphorical-astro-bucks in theaters. Wasn’t that story (in movies and comics) all about putting allies at odds? That sort of conflict takes this analogy a little farther than I want though.  What about the most loyal sidekick ever?

Image from writingishardwork.com

Samwise Gamgee: The guy tagged along with Frodo through everything. Some may Sam is the actual protagonist of the story.  while I think he was the hero, he wasn’t the protagonist. The protagonist in any story is the one who has a clear goal and encounters obstacles. The main goal of Lord of the Rings? Destroy the ring. Yes, Sam just wanted to protect his friend, but it’s not as neat as those wearing fond remembrance glasses think. For starters, Sam didn’t hear about the tale and shout, “Frodo can’t go unless I do!”  In fact, he was caught eavesdropping and ordered to follow Frodo.  The very beginning of their journey wasn’t based on friendship and support; it was based on Sam being yanked into this mess because of being nosey.

Yes, Sam was stalwart through perhaps 95% of the whole story, but there was rising conflict and an eventual clash of wills and break-up. Sure it was short lived, but Sam and Frodo argued about Gollum, which ended in Sam saying he can’t support this path. Yes, he returned, but that return as all the more heroic because the audience understood and believed how frustrating it would be.

So writers, I’m not saying the friends or sidekicks of the story need to argue at every page or end up on opposite sides of the conflict, but no one real or fictitious, can walk in the shadow of an MC and not encore some of the emotional strain, turmoil, and resentment the MC encounters.

Writers should be aware of what the MC is putting that sidekick through, and respect that those challenges have a toll on that friend. Every Robin ever has had some major conflict with Batman. Sometimes it was a conflict to earn a place beside him, and sometimes it was a more literal conflict. No one liked Jason Todd until he came back and tried took on Batman.

Image by Dragoninstall taken from agrimarques.com.

There’s another side. There are characters who get boring for the opposite reason. They almost never seem willing to support or help out that MC.  Mat Cauthon was a very hot and cold character for me.  I frankly resented him sometimes for how quickly he was ready to abandon Rand and how stubborn he was about pretty much doing anything. I understand part of this was an aspect of his arc and his fatal flaw, but he infuriated me, and there were times when I just wasn’t interested in him because I didn’t want to read another ten pages about how he wanted to avoid the situation. That said, I absolutely bawled when he mentioned a certain prank from way back in Eye of the World (I’d really appreciate anyone who remembers what that animal was by the way. I can’t seem to recall it. Might be time to read that series again.)  Mat ended up working for me because he inevitably was loyal. He fought it every step of the way, but he did come through in the end.

Consider this as you write. Tension and conflict, even between the closest characters, can make that relationship stronger.

Thanks for reading,
Matt

 

Everyone is A Hero in His Own Mind, Even the Villain

Greetings all,

Image taken from thundercats-ho.wikia.com for study and education under fair use doctrine.

Do you remember 1980s cartoons?  A lot of them are being remade, but I remember a day when villains were just bad guys who did bad things. I’m still a fan of those villains in the right circumstance. Horror movies (most of them) follow that format still.

However, over the last, I’d say, ten years, readers and moviegoers have had a higher standard. They want sympathetic villains. Now, this isn’t exactly a “new” trend. I’d even admit that most great stories had sympathetic villains.  Now, I know I’ve talked about sympathy sliders, but in this case I honestly mean villains I understood and felt a connection to.

I feel this has become the standard. What I’ve tried to do is think about situations where the reader demands a connection to the villain as opposed to those situations where they don’t care so much.

This is honestly just me musing on the subject, and I’d be interested to hear your comments below.

My thesis: The more they see the villain, the more the reader wants to understand him.

Case studies:

Image taken from villains.wiki.com.

Jon Doe from Se7en. He’s the shadow in the dark. He’s the mysterious monster who we never even see until the last act of the movie. So when we finally come face to face, he’s a monster. That’s because this story is about Somerset and Mills. We get to know them. We care for them. A lot of mysteries follow this format (of course some don’t). The point is, I’ve never once talked to anyone about this movie and heard that person say, “that movie was terrible. I really couldn’t understand John Doe’s motivation.” That’s not to say it doesn’t exist, but we don’t see him a lot, so we really don’t care what his side is. We just want Mills to put that gun down.

As I think, I’d posit that this style is most common in mysteries and thrillers. When the capture of the villain is the main plot thread. Again, there are exceptions, but the point is you can have a huge hit with a villain no one understands, so long as we don’t have to keep interacting with him. Short fiction where the bad guy is one to be chased and captured seems acceptable.

This is less true with larger works. It’s rare in epic fantasy to have a villain who isn’t at least understandable.  But let’s take a look at two huge successes and see what distinguishes them.

The Lord of the Rings:

Image taken from lot.wikia.com.

Sure, we understand the motivation. Get the ring; rule the world. But it’s not like we find ourselves ever feeling for the great eye do we? Also note, that eye and all his minions have less than ten percent of the story. This does a few things. It amps up the mystery and the threat. In fact, Wheel of Time shows us that the more we see the villain, the less imposing they are. In Eye of the World, Myrddraal are just horrifying. But after a few more books, we’re not so afraid of them anymore. We only THOUGHT they were imposing, but the Forsaken! Sure, in books 2-5. Now what Jordan did with that problem is he made them more sympathetic. So the Myrddrall are just made to be minions. The Forsaken, however, begin to get personal chapters, strife and pain. I love the series, but I can admit this was a bit hit or miss. The point is, the reader learns about them, and there’s opportunity for some degree of understanding.

Here’s where I admit that I’m struggling to think of a case where the villain is known.  They’re out there, but it’s a challenge. The challenge is because while there is opposition to the main character, that opposition isn’t the main threat of the book. The main opposition isn’t seen much. The less we see them, the less we care (and I’d even argue want) to understand them.

I’m currently look at Best Fantasy Books HQ’s list of the best-selling fantasy series of all time, and I’d argue that while there is opposition to the main character, the main threat is still mostly unknown.

Image taken from harry potter.wikia.com.

Harry Potter: We don’t see that V guy (no way I’m trying to spell that name) in the flesh until the fourth book. Sure we know about him, but we don’t really build a bond do we? Was anyone I’m unaware of sitting there going, “Well, I really think he has an argument for why he should be in power”? Nope. Sure, we could argue some affection for Draco, and did anyone not cry when Snape said, “Always”?  But they weren’t “the main threat.”

Lord of the Rings:  Discussed above.

Chronicles of Narnia: Well, it depends on which book you talk about, but in the ones I can remember, that there “main villain” was pretty much only showing up when it was time for the showdown.

Wheel of Time: Discussed above.

Discworld: I’ve only read one book. I’m sorry folks. It just didn’t grab me.

A Song of Ice and Fire: Anyone on team White Walker? Yes, there are many evil, hateful people in that book, and we know their motivations. We even understand most of them. However, that Night King is THE bad guy, and no one has posted a single meme asking “why don’t we know more about why he’s trying to ruin the world?”

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: Luke, I believe, dies a hero. Kronos (the big bad) is there to scare people and get beat in the last book.

Inheritance Cycle: Murtagh is a tragic character, but he’s a victim and a pawn. Galbatorix? We saw him at the end for like, a second.

So, after careful consideration and research, I’ve formed a new thesis, especially when it comes to antagonists and big bads.

Conclusion: Fantasy sagas have two forms of opposition. 1) A sympathetic opposition. A character whom we feel something for as the series progresses. (Examples: Draco, Vader, Murtagh.) 2) a “big bad.” This is a force or evil we don’t see until the end unless it’s to threaten the hero and make him feel very small. (examples: Kronos, The Emperor, Galbatorix. Voldemort, (HEY! I spelled it right!))

I don’t feel this is an absolute. However, I do feel it is the standard. I once did a post about the symbiotic nature of heroes and villains, but those are in series and comics where the main conflict is the bond between those characters.

What are your thoughts?

Thank for reading,

Matt

 

 

 

 

The Bad Guys: The Different Types of Villains

I was jumping around the Blogverse (if that’s not already a common term I’m trademarking it) and found J.R. Handley’s blog about Villains.  That got me to thinking about the “types” of villains.

This isn’t to be confused with conflict, which Quintessential Editor covered so well in this blog. Villains are a source of conflict, but I’m talking specifically about the different types of villains you see in stories.

I did some jumping around and found this blog from Word Hunter and this blog from Ongoing Worlds blog.

Both have a lot of great information, and they break villains down to a very fine degree.

However, I tend to like things kept simple. Things can be broken down into micro-categories, and one should work to do so. But where the above blogs give you the micro, I thought I’d attempt to offer the major categories of villains. The distinctions I give them are out of my own mind, but may overlap. My goal is to create a smaller list of “broad” terms to describe whatever villain you might be creating. That list can be broken down into either of the lists I mentioned above.

So here we go:

1. 

   This image and all others are copyright free from Pixabay.

   The deity villain:  This isn’t a post about religion. That said, this type of villain deals with any deity be they good, bad, or man-like (the Greek gods were very petty). Any “god-like” or “devil” like character would fall under this category.

This villain has what seems to be absolute power. This villain rarely acts directly. He/she has agents who do his/her bidding. The final conflict between the hero and deity villain don’t always end in direct conflict, but they can.

Stories from this point of view often have a “helper” deity. This usually gives the hero (if he isn’t a god or demigod himself) the required power to delete this evil, thus preventing Deus Ex Machina. Now, some stories have many different villains (the Greek gods were dastardly in some regards, but they weren’t the “main” opponents, just meddlers that made life more complicated for hero and villain alike).  But stories that focus on this villain as a source of conflict are go-to Scifi and Fantasy villains.

Case Study: The Mistborn Trilogy (1st era).  I was going to analyze this more deeply, but it’s just a great series, and if you haven’t read it, I don’t want to spoil it for you. This trilogy meets all the criteria I mentioned above.

Case Study: Lord of the Rings. As I mentioned above, the hero and deity villain don’t have to face off directly.

2)  The inversive villain:  I did a blog about symbiotic villains recently.  These guys all fall under that category. The sole requirement in this type of villain is that the villain is the equal opposite of the hero.  I did plenty of case studies for this in the blog I just mentioned, but I do want to elaborate a point.

It doesn’t matter how powerful or weak the character is. What matters is the qualities the hero shares are manipulated and skewed through the perception of the villain. Some inversive villains are equally as powerful as the hero, while others are comparatively weaker. This depends on how much the hero’s “power” defines him. Whatever defines the hero also defines the villain, it is the stance on the issue or the application of those defining traits that make the conflict between these villains and their heroes so compelling.

3) The betrayed villain: A point of emphasis. Here, the point is betrayal is the nature of this villain. It doesn’t matter if it’s the villain who betrayed or was betrayed. If the cause of this characters negative actions are a direct result of a foreseen “slight” you have a betrayed villain.  Betrayal is a key theme in this conflict and to this character. This villain rises due to a wedge driven between he and the hero. They were friends or family at some point.  Don’t be tempted to throw Magneto in this. Magneto and Charles still care about each other. Neither feels betrayed and they, in fact, often protect each other from perceived “greater” threats. No, Magneto belongs in the inversive villain category.

Case Study:  Iago (my favorite villain of all time).  Iago felt betrayed. The reason for his actions revolve around a promotion he felt he deserved but was instead slighted.    He was able to pull off his plan because of the trust he still feigned through the play.

This is a common theme in this sort of villain. , but it isn’t mandated. In fact, sometimes a   betrayed villain is born, and the hero knowingly creates him. The point is, this villain’s motivation and reason for dastardly deeds is based on a sense of betrayal. I thought about this topic a long time, and couldn’t readily think of a “main” villain of this type in Fantasy or Science Fiction.  So if anyone here more well read than I am knows of a scifi/fantasy villain who falls in this category, please say so in the comments below.

4) The pure evil villain: These are the guys my generation grew up loving to hate. These villains are very common in cartoons. Pick an 80’s cartoon, look at the villain. These guys are falling out of style these days because their motivations are harder to believe. These are the guys who simply exist to be bad. They have no motivation nor cause for their evil deeds. Any villain who is bad, but there’s no identifiable cause of that evil falls into this category.

I’m not so against this type of villain, but my editor and many bloggers talk about them, and most say these types of villains are unsatisfying. That doesn’t stop Hollywood from cranking out villains who fall under this category, but there’s a reason for that. TV and Movie fans have a lesser expectation of depth. Unless you’re sitting down for a 30-minute cartoon, the viewer doesn’t tend to care “why” the villain is doing what he’s doing. To shift your villains out of this category, give him a motivation the reader can identify. I’m personally NOT going to make it a requirement that the reader empathize, but some would argue the requirement. I absolutely agree the reader/viewer must understand a character’s motivation to be promoted out to this category, but I don’t think the reader has to agree or empathize with it.

5) The cause villain: If all you do is give your “pure” evil villain a “cause” this is what you’d get. Here is a villain who has a “reason” for what he’s doing, but that reason can vary. It doesn’t matter here if the reader agrees with the cause. What matters is the reader understands it.

Case Study:  Grand Admiral Thrawn from Star Wars. He wanted order in the Galaxy. He did some awful stuff to see that order delivered, but he did it.  For fans of the series, I have a question you can debate in the comments below.

I was going to create a new category for the power-hungry villain, (which might be where Palpatine goes) but it doesn’t matter that the cause is “more power.” If the villain has a cause, he’s a cause villain.  This is the villain whose primary motivation is the accumulation of (or of more) power.  That means this is where those evil emperors/kings fall under too.  He’d be pretty easy to get a long with if the world would just do what he says and give him what he wants.  You may argue Palpatine goes here, but I’m less convinced. Yes, he wants to rule the galaxy, and that might be the point that wins the argument for you, but did he develop that want for a reason? This is what creates the power-hungry villain subcategory of a cause villain from a power-hungry villain. If the villain’s cause is more power, you’ll see this (specific) version of a cause villain.

Case Study: Sylar from Heroes. His whole purpose is the accumulation of abilities. He still has a cause, but that cause is specifically related to power. Yes, Palpatine and Sylar are cause villains, but their motivations might differ. I’m not wholly bought in on the idea that Palpatine simply wanted “more power.” I’d be very interested to see a debate on the subject in the comments below.

So there it is.  I’m pretty confident I could set any villain in one of the five categories above. The subcategories (power-hungry being so important I felt I had to at least address it) are more about plot and conflict than the motivation for the characters.  Do you have a villain I can’t throw in one of these categories? If so, what category would you give them? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for reading,

Matt

Deus Ex Machina: When Magic Solving Problems Causes Problems

Possibly the biggest opponent to fantasy and science fiction is the concept of Deus Ex Machina.  literarydevices.net gave a description of the term, but I’d like to add to that.  When something arises that the reader isn’t prepared for to resolve the conflict, the reader will be unsatisfied with the ending.  Let’s be honest, as readers, we WANT to believe the ending is plausible.  We’ll take some pretty hanky explanations as background or foreshadowing.

Image from The Two Towers used for educational use and review under Fair Use Doctrine. 

In The Two Towers, Gandalf basically said, Just hold off for three days and I’ll come kill whatever bad guys are left.  They fought for three days. Gandalf saved the day. No one batted an eyelash.

I’ve been speaking with Quintessential Editor about his book, editing mine, and outlining Sojourn in Despair.  That means I’ve been talking about magic systems like crazy.  Corey and I were talking about it, and I’d mentioned Sanderson’s Laws of Magic. I’m telling you, if you haven’t read these, and you write fantasy, stop writing and read this. It’s a solid group of guidelines.   Sanderson’s First Law is, “An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.”

I love fantasy. I love Sanderson’s work in particular.  The reason I love it though is because it has a sense of wonder. Bad fantasy destroys that sense of wonder with a sense of impossibility.    So when I read that law, I translate that to mean, “The better the reader understands the magic of the world, the more likely he’s going to accept that magic solved the problem.”

In The Journals of Bob Drifter, I took great care easing the reader into the magic system.  Some say I took too much care. But I take a great amount of satisfaction from the fact that no one has (as of yet) complained that the ending was too easy.  I spent some 110,000 words building up a villain that seemed unstoppable.  But as Grimm was doing dastardly things, I was explaining through a few characters how his power worked while also explaining how Bob’s power worked.  I feel if I hadn’t have done both, people would have called me out.  Actually, I was more concerned the reader would discover the trick too soon.  If that’s happened, no one said so yet. If you’ve read the book feel free to comment below regarding your thoughts.

I’m wracking my brain trying to determine a book that really failed at this. I’m sure it’s out there, and I’m sure I’ve read it, but I can’t honestly recall. But how do you prevent it?  Should you?

Should you?  Well, not necessarily.  (OK, you should TOTALLY prevent Deus Ex Machina, but you don’t always need a magic system which requires a degree in physics to understand).  Refer to the rule.  “An author’s ability to SOLVE conflict….”

What if you wanted to CAUSE it? Children’s, and young reader fantasy stories do this a lot.  No one sweeps in and saves the day with magic, but quite often magic is the cause of the problem.  I’d argue this is the case with Lord of the Rings.  Magic is far more responsible problems than it is solutions (Gandalf’s rescue included).  So…if you’re working on a story where magic is getting thrown around like crazy and all it does is make life miserable for the characters, GO FOR IT!  I don’t care how the magic system works.  It’s magic!

But what if the man is going to rely on magic?  Well then, the degree with which that magic is going to be relied upon must be that understood by the reader.  Here are a few things I try to do to avoid the problem.

One:  If Three is Good Enough for Tolkien, it’s good enough for me:  I consider this the LEAST an author can do.  I use this with foreshadowing and magic plot devices.  I make sure to mention the “trick” at least three times.  (Free autographed copy of my book if you can name the three instances I did this in The Journals of Bob Drifter.)

Two: The Mentor Magic Learning Montage:  I’m less and less a fan of this every time I see it and use it.  In 1,200, I took the mentor away JUST to avoid this.  Inevitably in most fantasy sagas, there’s the “mentor” who appears JUST as the guy develops his power.  How handy he shows up just in time to teach the guy how to become the hero.  It’s a common thing and not really a “sin” in writing. I’ve just personally grown tired of it.  (Though I did use a mentor archetype in New Utopia.  Even then, I added a twist just to be different.)  What this mentor can do is teach the user, and through him the reader, how the magic system works.  In these types of stories, there’s usually a “hint” (see above) at how something thought impossible could happen.  Or at least they do this next trick.

Three: Hang a Lantern:  When the character does something impossible, and another character goes, “How could that be!” The reader gets a clue that this is an intentional thing.  Then calmly waits for the explanation on how that should happen.  If you use this, you NEED to explain that later in the story.

Four:  Internal Dialogue:  This is the last one I use.  I used it most in 1,200, but I like it because it’s different.   The author can use conflict and internal dialogue to express learned experiences and ideas.  You can use the point of view of another character as well.  In New Utopia, one of my upcoming books, the hero, Wilum, does something impressive.  His mentor character (mentioned above) notices, then considers how it was done.  You actually see this quite a lot in Anime.

How do you avoid Deus Ex Machina?  Do you have a trick I don’t know about?  Please share it.

Thanks for reading,

Matt