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"I don't know how to fix this." Let's do things differently this time. Like, so differently. Every good story starts with a question. It's a simple question really, but in recent years hollywood has done a terrible job of asking this one question. In fact it just might be the one thing that could save the hundreds of mediocre movies that are released and forgotten every year. It's a question I ask myself every time I start a story, and it's a question I keep asking myself until I finish it. It's the only thing that makes writing worth it. That question is: Why do I care? It always starts with the storyteller, asking himself "Why do I care about this story?" If you're an author --or even just a reader-- you may understand the type of commitment it takes to write a story, but a film like Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is much harder to produce even than a book. So why did the creators decide to tell this story when they could have told any other. Why did they invest a hundred million dollars on these characters? But this question has two sides, and the other side of the question is on us, the viewers. Whether we like it or not, from the second a movie begins every viewer is unconsciously asking themselves the exact same question. "Why do I care?" Why should this fictional story matter to me? These are characters that don't exist, so why should I care what happens to them? Ultimately, that is the question that decides who likes a movie. Marvel movies have been suffering lately because nobody quite remembers why they should care. Marvel expects us to care about these characters because they had a cameo in a previous movie, or because they're related to characters we do love. They expect it's enough that we recognize the character's name, and they forget to give us any reason to care. And so many people don't. "Superhero fatigue" is getting worse all across the world as people get tired of seeing generic characters that they can't relate to, and seeing recycled plots that barely matter. And so for months I've sat down in movie theaters, asking myself why do I care? And the sad answer is... I don't. I no longer care about the MCU. I no longer care about the Star Wars universe. And my apathy comes from those writing the stories. If they knew why they were telling those stories, maybe they could convince me to care too. But I almost feel like Marvel barely cares about their stories anymore, only caring about their algorithm and their box-office numbers. And that is why Across the Spider-Verse surprised me so much. For the first time in a long time, I care. In fact, I care deeply. The characters in this beautiful movie are characters I'd follow forever. So what made this movie different? Why do I care so much, and relate so deeply to characters that won't ever exist in reality? Across The Spider-Verse starts differently from the very beginning, and the opening scene of the movie is only a hair's breadth away from perfect. We're introduced to a character we thought we knew. It turns out... We didn't. Gwen isn't the girl we thought she was. But this movie does something absolutely brilliant. It doesn't introduce us to Gwen by talking about her, the movie starts with her talking about someone else entirely. His name is Miles Morales. He was bitten by a radioactive spider. And... He's not the only one. That phrase, "He's not the only one," becomes a theme that follows every sentence Gwen uses to describe her best friend. But even at the very beginning of the movie she's telling his story, instead of her own. That's when the movie hooked me. Because I think we can all relate. Every day starts with the same question. I ask myself this question at the beginning of my day, and I keep asking myself until I get to the end. Why do I care? Why does it matter if I get out of bed, who would notice if I just lay here forever? Why should I go to school, or work, when it'd be so much easier to just give up? Every day the answer to that question is different, and some days we don't have an answer at all. Some days we don't even care enough to get out of bed, and I know I've felt the weight of my own mistakes, or inability to do the most simple things, and in my head I cry out I can't do this alone. Or like Gwen Stacy, at the end of the opening scene in Across the Spider-Verse, I find myself whispering I don't know how to fix this. I think that's what Across the Spider-Verse is really about. The first movie's theme was "anyone can wear the mask" but the sequel asks the question "why would you want to?" Being Spider-Man costs everything. So why is it worth it? What are you fighting for? Miguel O'Hara gives Gwen Stacy something to care about, tossing her a watch and muttering "Join the club." But even more importantly, he gives her something to believe in, because she can no longer believe in herself. That cause --the preservation of the multiverse-- is enough for Miguel. But... it's not enough for Miles. For some reason, he's different. He begins the movie by telling his story, and concluding with the statement sometimes I just wish I wasn't the only one. Miles is also searching for a reason to fight, for something to believe in, but he's not like the others. He doesn't find that in the spider society, or in the preservation of the multiverse. He finds it in his dad. And also in himself. This place isn't what I thought it was. [...] People keep telling me how my story is supposed to go. But nah, I'm gonna do my own thing. Gwen is too scared to tell her own story, so even at the beginning of the movie all she believes in is Miles. But Miles is different. At the climactic moment of the movie, Miles realizes who should be telling his story. And the strangest thing... others begin to follow him. My first time watching, I found it a little annoying how everyone around Miles was perfectly happy to forsake the fate of the multiverse to help him, but I think I understand now exactly what they were feeling. They were tired of telling their own tragic stories of failure. They were all thinking I don't know how to fix this. So it only took one person who was willing to stand anyway, to give them something to believe in. Suddenly they all found themselves believing that it was possible to change the cannon. For the first time ever, they started to hope they could write their own stories. I've wondered before how we can care so deeply about characters that aren't real. They shouldn't matter to us, but for some reason they do. I think Miles is the answer to that question. We care because characters like miles show us hope we don't have in ourselves. They give us something to believe in. They're another story we can tell when we're too scared to tell our own stories of failure over and over and over again. They make us believe that we can change the cannon, be someone different. Someone better. But... You can't tell someone else's story forever. You can't spend your life only believing in other people. And the best part of Across the Spider-Verse, is that even Gwen realizes that. At the end she says that she always wanted to join a band, but never found the right one. And so she made her own. Stories give us something to believe in when we feel like we can't believe in ourselves. But I want to tell you that you can believe in yourself. You write your story. I truly believe that. I know how it feels to fail over and over and over again. I know how it feels to not even care enough about your life to get out of bed. So if you can't believe in yourself yet, I'll just say that I believe in you too. And when I get frustrated trying to write my story, I'll believe in yours. It's been a while since I've posted an essay, and this is an essay I meant to finish a lot earlier, but for an essay about finding something to care about and believe in, I found I cared very little about it for the longest time. After seeing this movie for the fourth time, I finally feel like I was ready to write this. It's still a little all over the place compared to my other essays, but I hope you can tell that this is something that matters to me. And so, thank you. I love knowing you guys care about my thoughts. It inspires me every day. I know these are long, so thanks again for taking the time to read the ramblings of another absurdly busy author. I hope to hear your thoughts too!

If a person from our universe moved over to the cosmere, would they bring over concepts with them. Obviously their knowledge and memories would be there but would that create a counterpart in the spiritual realm? Could that person align themselves close to a spider-man ideal and get spider powers?

I've been re-reading The Reckoners and thinking about what it would look like on-screen. I can't help but think that it would look a bit like Ultimate Spider-man. Just think, with all of David's thoughts and in-head "similes," it would be a lot like Peter's asides in Ultimate Spider-man. Who agrees?