You know, a strange thing’s been happening recently. The agency gets queries addressed to me specifically. And, some of them even identify me as Mr. Robin Crew. Now, on the one hand, I want to get angry and say “Mr. Crew is my father, the former teacher. I’m not so old I want to be addressed as Mister.” But on the other hand, they correctly identified my gender and even spelled my name with an “I.” Then, some of them claim to read my blog to boot.
I’ve always wondered about that. Do they? Maybe they do read it. Maybe they checked in when they made their query. Maybe they just noticed that I’ve got one and used it as a conversation topic. After all, sometimes I wonder about the logic. “I enjoy your blog, so I think you’ll enjoy this book which has nothing to do with your mad ramblings whatsoever.” Even then, who knows? Maybe they DO read it and figure we think alike. It’s all very strange. And it makes me suddenly hesitant to even read the query… in a good way for you. It feels like a conflict of interest. Like we’re secretly buddies. It’s an odd sensation. So come on. Be a pal. Stop humanizing yourself. It makes my job as "bad cop" so much harder.
From the author’s standpoint, it probably can’t hurt. Afterall, if I’m hesitant to reject you, I’ll spend more time with your manuscript in front of me. I mean, not to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ll probably be rejected anyway, but your chances (or chances of getting a little feedback) improve as the time I spend with your materials increases. Even so, I’m hesitant to recommend this method. It is, after all, an extension of precisely what you SHOULD do- research the agent, see what books they work on, whether you like them as people, and address them as a person and not some distant, magical book-selling tool that works in some other dimension which you neither need nor desire knowledge of. Adressing it personally, telling us how you found us or why you think you’re a good fit (quickly, please! “I saw your presentation at SCBWI.” “So-and-so who you represent recommended you to me.” “Editor What’s-His-Face thought you’d be interested.” “I was in that Webinar and you said it sounded interesting, so…”)That's all good.
Thing is, I ain’t the agent. I’m not even Junior agent although I’d love that and if there were a budget for it, I think the bossman would approve. I’m a mere assistant. I get veto power, and the boss listens to my advice, but in the final analysis, I have no guaranteed power to choose what we represent, which IS AS IT SHOULD BE. Ultimately, “M” is the one who has to line edit and sell the books, so he needs to be the one who makes the final call. Addressing me is still totally a point in your favor. In some ways, that’s even more appealing to me. “Lookit me! I’m a big, important man now.” But problems arise. Some authors are still addressing people who are no longer at the agency. Occasionally, they’d address people who would never be involved with queries. And I’m not the only reader of the pile anymore. The boss does to, as do some interns. Or junior assistants. Or whatever we’re calling them.
Much as I enjoy the ring of authority that “Mr. Crew” carries, I still think you’d be better off addressing the boss. Trust me, I won’t be insulted. It’s his agency. And I can only imagine what the junior assistants think. Like “Man, who is this hotshot who gets Fanmail/Queries?”
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
American Nerd
One of the perks of Big Corporate Internship is books. Lots of books. It’s a magical world where brand new hardcover books are free, but tiny lunch sized bags of potato chips are $1.25. I don’t ask. I just check out the free book cases. It pays to check back frequently. That’s how I got a copy of “American Nerd; The Story of My People” by Benjamin Nugent.
You know, it’s actually really interesting. It isn’t as heavily cited as much of the Non-Fiction I read, but it also makes it good, light reading for the train compared to the last book I reviewed here, Sam Harris’ The Moral Landscape. It also tangentially covers topics of race relations and US history in ways you may not have thought of them. For instance, Nugent argues early on that the ultra manly 20th century with its focus on football, danger, cars and so on was an inevitable throwback in the face of education, office work and unskilled labor replacing physically demanding jobs. There’s also the section on how Jews and Asians are routinely labeled AS CULTURES as being nerdy (and often weak or effeminate) because of a greater emphasis on learning while Africans bear the unique burden of being too human and therefore animal-like. Needless to say, some pretty scary stuff but you can see why he’d make the connection. People certainly act like these things are absolutely true. He also tries to define a nerd, which is more complicated than you would think. I used to have a whole taxonomy of nerdliness but junked it when I realized there was already a famous Geek Hierarchy.
Ultimately his definition revolves heavily around nerds acting highly mechanical. Now really, have I ever pretended to be inhuman in order to escape the backlash my insightful but tactless analyses might inspire? Oh wait. Yes. All the time. Well, even so, it’s a good read with an important message.
“The Pathos of Being a Nerd is that because you are comfortable with rational thought that you are cut off from the experience of spontaneous feelings, of romance, of nonrational connection to other people. A nerd is so often self loathing because he accepts the thinking/feeling rift and he knows and cares that other people accept it too. To be a nerd is often to live with a nagging feeling of one’s own incurable heartlessness.”
I liked the early section of defining and theorizing about the nature of the nerd more than the second, which is about first hand stories. For one, I don’t feel like they mesh. For another, I am a nerd, and don’t need to be told what pwnage is. And in many of the anecdotes, it’s hard to see where his theory fits in, even though I feel like his theory is generally correct.
It won’t win any awards, but if you are or know someone who is, may secretly be, or could be in danger of becoming a nerd, you might want to give it a whirl.
You know, it’s actually really interesting. It isn’t as heavily cited as much of the Non-Fiction I read, but it also makes it good, light reading for the train compared to the last book I reviewed here, Sam Harris’ The Moral Landscape. It also tangentially covers topics of race relations and US history in ways you may not have thought of them. For instance, Nugent argues early on that the ultra manly 20th century with its focus on football, danger, cars and so on was an inevitable throwback in the face of education, office work and unskilled labor replacing physically demanding jobs. There’s also the section on how Jews and Asians are routinely labeled AS CULTURES as being nerdy (and often weak or effeminate) because of a greater emphasis on learning while Africans bear the unique burden of being too human and therefore animal-like. Needless to say, some pretty scary stuff but you can see why he’d make the connection. People certainly act like these things are absolutely true. He also tries to define a nerd, which is more complicated than you would think. I used to have a whole taxonomy of nerdliness but junked it when I realized there was already a famous Geek Hierarchy.
Ultimately his definition revolves heavily around nerds acting highly mechanical. Now really, have I ever pretended to be inhuman in order to escape the backlash my insightful but tactless analyses might inspire? Oh wait. Yes. All the time. Well, even so, it’s a good read with an important message.
“The Pathos of Being a Nerd is that because you are comfortable with rational thought that you are cut off from the experience of spontaneous feelings, of romance, of nonrational connection to other people. A nerd is so often self loathing because he accepts the thinking/feeling rift and he knows and cares that other people accept it too. To be a nerd is often to live with a nagging feeling of one’s own incurable heartlessness.”
I liked the early section of defining and theorizing about the nature of the nerd more than the second, which is about first hand stories. For one, I don’t feel like they mesh. For another, I am a nerd, and don’t need to be told what pwnage is. And in many of the anecdotes, it’s hard to see where his theory fits in, even though I feel like his theory is generally correct.
It won’t win any awards, but if you are or know someone who is, may secretly be, or could be in danger of becoming a nerd, you might want to give it a whirl.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
How Being Shot in the Face Taught Me To Live Part II
Fast forward, and just recently at Big Corporate Internship, there was a promotion with Groupon to buy heavily discounted books directly from the publisher. It was a huge disaster. Arranged at the last minute, it got no promotion, and the custom website landing page was hideous and dumb. But the real loss, according to those around me was that, as some of us (myself included) expected, independent booksellers, or Indies for short, were highly offended. The intern who sits next to me and is in one of my classes didn’t get it. Well, one of his jobs is to monitor the Twitter feed. I asked what people were saying. The most recent Tweet at the time went something like “Do they even realize that they’re spitting in the face of independents everywhere?” He was a little surprised by this, but he doesn’t know the industry as I do yet.
Independent booksellers see themselves as a cultural bulwark. Arbiters of quality. They are allies of publishers in that one makes and the other promotes worthy material. Independents routinely receive discounts of 50% or more on books in addition to all sorts of free material. The book industry is also saddled with quite possibly the worst return policy of any business in the world, which involves having to frequently take back damaged hardcover as well as allowing paperbacks to be pulped on site. If you’ve ever seen the “if you bought this book without a cover, it was reported destroyed to the publisher” bit, now you know what it means. It means the publisher lost not only the sale, but the product- a product still easily saleable. Compound this with JIT (Just in Time) delivery systems which see books purchased, returned, and re-purchased before they’ve even been paid for the first time, and you can start to see how unfavorable the situation is to the producers of content (publishers) and why, as an example, author royalties tend to be based on net sales rather than SRP these days (i.e. in the past, an author would get 10% of the cover price of say, $25.00, or $2.50 per book. Today, they’d be much more likely to get 10% of whatever it was sold for, probably between $10.00 and $12.50 for a per book royalty of $1.00 –$ 1.25). Admittedly this is the case for general book retail, but independents, though often class acts individually are full of hot air collectively and they love to complain that they’re being ignored, that big chains are given unfair preferential treatment, and for that matter, that no one reads and nuts to all of you losers for not conforming to their standards.
As far as the Independents are concerned, even acknowledging, much less promoting our ability to sell books directly to consumers is a traitorous act that destroys the harmony between our businesses. And most people I work with were quick to grovel and kiss their butts and beg forgiveness because Indies still sell a fair number of books. And you know, if they sell, I'm happy to send promotional materials and whatever, but they need to get over themselves. Put their money where their mouths are and actually be those local community authorities they claim. Anyone who's interested should check out "Reluctant Capitalists" by Laura Miller, which details the growth of chain stores, Indie's incessant whining, and ultimately, their formation into a vast organization that closely mimics chains and undercuts their own explanation of why they're so important.
Regardless, I learned from getting shot at. Hide behind that gravestone all you want. Pretend the situation hasn't changed. Go ahead. They’ll get you anyway. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. There can be no greatness without audacity. Indies are scared because the digital age has reduced the need of a middle man. Online retail has already clearly proven that their superior distribution and bulk orders results in greater availability and lower prices. Falling back on a status as cultural authority- an authority publishers have historically granted the Indies purely for their own benefit- is all brick and mortar retailers have left. And let me stress that it can work if you ARE an authority, a store with a specialty, with author events and book clubs and what have you. But for the generalist bookseller, Indie or otherwise, it’s one more competitor. They act as if this makes publishers evil. Does it? We offered the people lower discounts as a one time offer than we give the stores every day of the week. And let’s face it, direct distribution, if publishers can organize it, is better for everyone. It means low prices. It means high availability. It does these things precisely because it cuts out the middle man.
This is only the beginning. Give it a few years. I wouldn’t be surprised if Print runs were decimated because everything will be ordered Print on Demand from the publisher, their printer, or an online retailer (and I wouldn’t be surprised to see the agency model associated with e-books applied to POD from generalists like Amazon). The problem of returns will be gone. Books will theoretically remain “in print” forever since they will be perpetually available if you want it. Selection will be enormous. And there will still be book reviewers everywhere you look. So who wins? Consumers and producers. Who loses? Only the middleman- and only if they’re not smart enough to leverage their cultural authority.
Conventional Publishing wisdom is to protect these Indies like they were family. As for me, I say fuck ‘em. We’re never going to get anywhere by digging in and pretending the paintballs aren’t raining down. We have three choices: We, as publishers, can cower behind those gravestones like I did in the paintball course, we can run away and get shot in the back, or we can rush the mansion.
I may not know precisely which way to run, and we might not all make it, but I don’t doubt for a second that it gives us far better odds than staying resolutely in our hidey-holes.
Independent booksellers see themselves as a cultural bulwark. Arbiters of quality. They are allies of publishers in that one makes and the other promotes worthy material. Independents routinely receive discounts of 50% or more on books in addition to all sorts of free material. The book industry is also saddled with quite possibly the worst return policy of any business in the world, which involves having to frequently take back damaged hardcover as well as allowing paperbacks to be pulped on site. If you’ve ever seen the “if you bought this book without a cover, it was reported destroyed to the publisher” bit, now you know what it means. It means the publisher lost not only the sale, but the product- a product still easily saleable. Compound this with JIT (Just in Time) delivery systems which see books purchased, returned, and re-purchased before they’ve even been paid for the first time, and you can start to see how unfavorable the situation is to the producers of content (publishers) and why, as an example, author royalties tend to be based on net sales rather than SRP these days (i.e. in the past, an author would get 10% of the cover price of say, $25.00, or $2.50 per book. Today, they’d be much more likely to get 10% of whatever it was sold for, probably between $10.00 and $12.50 for a per book royalty of $1.00 –$ 1.25). Admittedly this is the case for general book retail, but independents, though often class acts individually are full of hot air collectively and they love to complain that they’re being ignored, that big chains are given unfair preferential treatment, and for that matter, that no one reads and nuts to all of you losers for not conforming to their standards.
As far as the Independents are concerned, even acknowledging, much less promoting our ability to sell books directly to consumers is a traitorous act that destroys the harmony between our businesses. And most people I work with were quick to grovel and kiss their butts and beg forgiveness because Indies still sell a fair number of books. And you know, if they sell, I'm happy to send promotional materials and whatever, but they need to get over themselves. Put their money where their mouths are and actually be those local community authorities they claim. Anyone who's interested should check out "Reluctant Capitalists" by Laura Miller, which details the growth of chain stores, Indie's incessant whining, and ultimately, their formation into a vast organization that closely mimics chains and undercuts their own explanation of why they're so important.
Regardless, I learned from getting shot at. Hide behind that gravestone all you want. Pretend the situation hasn't changed. Go ahead. They’ll get you anyway. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. There can be no greatness without audacity. Indies are scared because the digital age has reduced the need of a middle man. Online retail has already clearly proven that their superior distribution and bulk orders results in greater availability and lower prices. Falling back on a status as cultural authority- an authority publishers have historically granted the Indies purely for their own benefit- is all brick and mortar retailers have left. And let me stress that it can work if you ARE an authority, a store with a specialty, with author events and book clubs and what have you. But for the generalist bookseller, Indie or otherwise, it’s one more competitor. They act as if this makes publishers evil. Does it? We offered the people lower discounts as a one time offer than we give the stores every day of the week. And let’s face it, direct distribution, if publishers can organize it, is better for everyone. It means low prices. It means high availability. It does these things precisely because it cuts out the middle man.
This is only the beginning. Give it a few years. I wouldn’t be surprised if Print runs were decimated because everything will be ordered Print on Demand from the publisher, their printer, or an online retailer (and I wouldn’t be surprised to see the agency model associated with e-books applied to POD from generalists like Amazon). The problem of returns will be gone. Books will theoretically remain “in print” forever since they will be perpetually available if you want it. Selection will be enormous. And there will still be book reviewers everywhere you look. So who wins? Consumers and producers. Who loses? Only the middleman- and only if they’re not smart enough to leverage their cultural authority.
Conventional Publishing wisdom is to protect these Indies like they were family. As for me, I say fuck ‘em. We’re never going to get anywhere by digging in and pretending the paintballs aren’t raining down. We have three choices: We, as publishers, can cower behind those gravestones like I did in the paintball course, we can run away and get shot in the back, or we can rush the mansion.
I may not know precisely which way to run, and we might not all make it, but I don’t doubt for a second that it gives us far better odds than staying resolutely in our hidey-holes.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Depends on Your Definition/How Getting Shot in the Face Taught Me to Live Part I
Okay, so I have a bit of a confession. That cover for Have Degree; Will Travel? I made that for a class. To date, I've written about fifty pages of it. If you're interested, you can click the picture. There's a marketing-copy synposis and an author bio on there. If it still sounds cool after that, I could talk about it more in the future, but I wouldn't hold my breath for it being published. You'd be better off with Peter David's Sir Apropos of Nothing books (and his style is similar to mine, but, y'know better) or Knight Life series. If the politics of high fantasy interest you and the wacky hijinks don't, check out pretty much anything written by Jennifer Fallon.
In any event, I know what you're thinking. How do I square this trickery with my stated promise never to lie to you. Well, it's simple really. A lie is an intention to deceive. I am almost fundamentally incapable of deceit. I didn't try and deceive anyone (maybe I succeeded?). Look closely at the text on the cover. I've got a review quote from an author who has been dead for over a decade, and my bio claims I wrote another book- a Hugo winner no less, while I clearly stated this is my first book on the blog. Basically, as a story teller, I can say any kind of crazy nonsense I want long as I don't expect you to believe me. What a great loophole. For instance, if you ask me what I thought of your book, I may have to tell you it sucks. And in the next breath when you ask where I'm going for vacation, I'll tell you all about this great little beach front cottage I've got on the Sea of Tranquility.
In any event, although I know I'm spinnning off ever more into ego-stroking tripe, there's something important I want to discuss, and when we get to the end of it, you'll understand. And after that, I promise I'll do some book reviews. I'm also toying with the idea of giving away chapter critiques. But more on that later.
A couple years ago, I helped arrange my brother’s Bachelor Party. There was a big round table between all us groomsmen, very democratic. We made general choices and then left details to those with the guts to take charge. Fun conversations, but not much effifiency. And lots of sore feelings, too. Go-karting? Nope. Skydiving? Nuts to that. We ended up paintballing as our big second-day activity. That was absolutely the bottom of my list. I tried everything to dissuade the group. Concerts. A minor league baseball game. I pushed those Go-Karts and skydiving pretty hard. But in a Democracy, being the Best Man doesn’t ensure victory.
So we went paintballing. Most of the guys had gone once or twice. I hadn’t. It was hot and humid and my breath kept fogging up the plastic visor on that tight helmet. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Poorly coordinated, a sizable limp, and working on virtually no sleep to boot.
Which is to say; I was really bad at it. Sort of figured I would be. I was an average shot, maybe, but I couldn’t really run or sneak very well.
So for the first few rounds we play, we’re part of larger groups before the owners prep some stuff just for us. Which was nice, I guess. Usually they require 12 people for private groups and we only had 10, but they made an exception because it’s important to shoot the bachelor before his wife gets a chance to complain about the paint stains.
Now, in our very first match, we were on the side which is given an essentially impossible situation. The enemies were pre-fortified in a mansion with crates of additional ammo, and we had to get to them through a long field with tiny “gravestones” as our only cover, without the real world option of sneaking up at them. In other words, we were pushed into a suicide run against enemies who could fire at us continually from under far better cover, a literal and tactical high ground, superior numbers and limitless supplies. At the very start of the rush was a slick, muddy jaunt down hill before trying to clamber up. One of the paintball range guys pretty much pushed me down the hill and were it not for some creative rolling and whatnot, I probably wouldn’t even have made it to cover, but in the process, I twisted my leg. Plus, I’m fat, have a big head and broad shoulders. That “gravestone” was no cover at all for a guy of my size. In the end, I think I only moved one or two spaces father ahead before someone got me with a lucky shot.
I justified my near refusal to act on the pain in my leg and the awkwardness of pushing myself into a position from which I might actually move but the simple fact was that PLAYING IT SAFE WAS A GUARANTEED WAY NOT TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING AT ALL.
In any event, I know what you're thinking. How do I square this trickery with my stated promise never to lie to you. Well, it's simple really. A lie is an intention to deceive. I am almost fundamentally incapable of deceit. I didn't try and deceive anyone (maybe I succeeded?). Look closely at the text on the cover. I've got a review quote from an author who has been dead for over a decade, and my bio claims I wrote another book- a Hugo winner no less, while I clearly stated this is my first book on the blog. Basically, as a story teller, I can say any kind of crazy nonsense I want long as I don't expect you to believe me. What a great loophole. For instance, if you ask me what I thought of your book, I may have to tell you it sucks. And in the next breath when you ask where I'm going for vacation, I'll tell you all about this great little beach front cottage I've got on the Sea of Tranquility.
In any event, although I know I'm spinnning off ever more into ego-stroking tripe, there's something important I want to discuss, and when we get to the end of it, you'll understand. And after that, I promise I'll do some book reviews. I'm also toying with the idea of giving away chapter critiques. But more on that later.
A couple years ago, I helped arrange my brother’s Bachelor Party. There was a big round table between all us groomsmen, very democratic. We made general choices and then left details to those with the guts to take charge. Fun conversations, but not much effifiency. And lots of sore feelings, too. Go-karting? Nope. Skydiving? Nuts to that. We ended up paintballing as our big second-day activity. That was absolutely the bottom of my list. I tried everything to dissuade the group. Concerts. A minor league baseball game. I pushed those Go-Karts and skydiving pretty hard. But in a Democracy, being the Best Man doesn’t ensure victory.
So we went paintballing. Most of the guys had gone once or twice. I hadn’t. It was hot and humid and my breath kept fogging up the plastic visor on that tight helmet. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Poorly coordinated, a sizable limp, and working on virtually no sleep to boot.
Which is to say; I was really bad at it. Sort of figured I would be. I was an average shot, maybe, but I couldn’t really run or sneak very well.
So for the first few rounds we play, we’re part of larger groups before the owners prep some stuff just for us. Which was nice, I guess. Usually they require 12 people for private groups and we only had 10, but they made an exception because it’s important to shoot the bachelor before his wife gets a chance to complain about the paint stains.
Now, in our very first match, we were on the side which is given an essentially impossible situation. The enemies were pre-fortified in a mansion with crates of additional ammo, and we had to get to them through a long field with tiny “gravestones” as our only cover, without the real world option of sneaking up at them. In other words, we were pushed into a suicide run against enemies who could fire at us continually from under far better cover, a literal and tactical high ground, superior numbers and limitless supplies. At the very start of the rush was a slick, muddy jaunt down hill before trying to clamber up. One of the paintball range guys pretty much pushed me down the hill and were it not for some creative rolling and whatnot, I probably wouldn’t even have made it to cover, but in the process, I twisted my leg. Plus, I’m fat, have a big head and broad shoulders. That “gravestone” was no cover at all for a guy of my size. In the end, I think I only moved one or two spaces father ahead before someone got me with a lucky shot.
I justified my near refusal to act on the pain in my leg and the awkwardness of pushing myself into a position from which I might actually move but the simple fact was that PLAYING IT SAFE WAS A GUARANTEED WAY NOT TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING AT ALL.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Have Degree; Will Travel
I just wanted to share this one. Because I wanted to make wrapping paper out of it for Christmas (as a preview and IOU of next year’s gift) my publisher agreed to give me a quickie mock-up of the cover for my first book, Have Degree; Will Travel which is slated for an October 2011 release. Pretty sweet, huh?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
A second post?
Holy crap, right? Two in one day. You must all be very excited. Or confused. Well, truth is crazy/funny contemporary The Rejectionist has a pre-resolution uncontest I totally forgot about when I was planning all my updates. Whoops. So here goes. Feel free to join in. The "rules" are posted here.
Pre-resolutions for December
1) I will not scoff at heavy handed religious moralism this holiday season.
2) I will not play Dick Dale's version of Hava Nagila very loudly when carolers appear.
3) I will actually edit at least one of my own works in progress
4) I will groan 30% less while reading the average query.
5) I will get a heart even if it means finding the Wizard.
6) I will whip my writing group into shape.
7) I will not publically humiliate myself more than twice a day.
8) There is someone I would like to hurt very badly. I will not do this, although this is less a pre-resolution than a result of my confounded pacifism and legal concerns.
9) I will conquer my pacifism.
10) Pacifism defeated, I will conquer the world. I will then rewrite the legal standards and be free to hurt that person very badly. For everyone else, beer and skittles.
Pre-resolutions for December
1) I will not scoff at heavy handed religious moralism this holiday season.
2) I will not play Dick Dale's version of Hava Nagila very loudly when carolers appear.
3) I will actually edit at least one of my own works in progress
4) I will groan 30% less while reading the average query.
5) I will get a heart even if it means finding the Wizard.
6) I will whip my writing group into shape.
7) I will not publically humiliate myself more than twice a day.
8) There is someone I would like to hurt very badly. I will not do this, although this is less a pre-resolution than a result of my confounded pacifism and legal concerns.
9) I will conquer my pacifism.
10) Pacifism defeated, I will conquer the world. I will then rewrite the legal standards and be free to hurt that person very badly. For everyone else, beer and skittles.
Surely you can't be serious?
Bad news, everyone. Leslie Nielson died earlier this week.
“Surely,” you say. “Surely you can’t be serious?”
Well, I am serious. Shirley is dead. Long live Shirley. Anyway, do you all have any idea what this means? It means Steve Martin now has a monopoly on the Silver-Haired-Comedian-Who-Is-Actually-Kind-Of-Funny-But-Who-Appears-Almost-Exclusively-In-Awful-Movies business. I’m considering starting an anti-trust suit that would break up Steve Martin into two or three different comedians. Competition drives the market and all.
Also, for the last month or so I’ve been seeing this “Xtranormal” text-to-movie thing all over the place. Well, I’m nothing if not late to, and then dismissive of “the party.” So I looked them up. Apparently they’ve been named November’s Meme of the month. Well, if it’s good enough for a comparison to Chocolate Rain or the Battle Toads it’s good enough for me. Well, actually, it’s pretty crappy but I made a sample movie and enjoyed it a lot anyway. It has a lot to do with my nostalgia for Spider-Man Cartoon Maker. I may be the only person who ever liked that worthless program. And I felt they extreme limitations imposed by crummy software actually made it even more fun. What I wouldn’t give to show you guys “And Now for Something Completely You Suck,” but I haven’t got a clue how to export Spiderman Movies and besides, on my now 8 year old laptop the animations ran at triple speed because the program had specs that low. Still pondering whether or not I should spend money on doing Xtranormal. What do all’s y’all think? My demo movie was inspired by a real professor I had, the only Jesuit in four years at a Jesuit school. I had him give a sermon on Erin Brokovich. My only problem with the movie is that the robot voice sounded a little too human for the good Father. Anyway, would you lot like to see my mad ramblings in the form of robot-voiced-anthropomorphic-animals?
Finally, a news aggregator brought me this great article/editorial about why Men’s Magazines are failing. It’s got a lot of funny bits in there about the disconnect between covers and content, how the magazines can be described as “cars, tits, danger, six-packs, tits, booze, football, tits, and tits” And some keen observations of male consumers and how we really feel about this stuff. It’s rare that I identify as strongly with some random article written by someone I’ve never heard of as I did this one. Now, it came to me as an e-mail in plain text. So it wasn’t until after I read it, I realized from the linked source that it’s from the Independent in England. You guys thought I was joking about becoming British in my old age. Joke’s on you it would seem.
“Surely,” you say. “Surely you can’t be serious?”
Well, I am serious. Shirley is dead. Long live Shirley. Anyway, do you all have any idea what this means? It means Steve Martin now has a monopoly on the Silver-Haired-Comedian-Who-Is-Actually-Kind-Of-Funny-But-Who-Appears-Almost-Exclusively-In-Awful-Movies business. I’m considering starting an anti-trust suit that would break up Steve Martin into two or three different comedians. Competition drives the market and all.
Also, for the last month or so I’ve been seeing this “Xtranormal” text-to-movie thing all over the place. Well, I’m nothing if not late to, and then dismissive of “the party.” So I looked them up. Apparently they’ve been named November’s Meme of the month. Well, if it’s good enough for a comparison to Chocolate Rain or the Battle Toads it’s good enough for me. Well, actually, it’s pretty crappy but I made a sample movie and enjoyed it a lot anyway. It has a lot to do with my nostalgia for Spider-Man Cartoon Maker. I may be the only person who ever liked that worthless program. And I felt they extreme limitations imposed by crummy software actually made it even more fun. What I wouldn’t give to show you guys “And Now for Something Completely You Suck,” but I haven’t got a clue how to export Spiderman Movies and besides, on my now 8 year old laptop the animations ran at triple speed because the program had specs that low. Still pondering whether or not I should spend money on doing Xtranormal. What do all’s y’all think? My demo movie was inspired by a real professor I had, the only Jesuit in four years at a Jesuit school. I had him give a sermon on Erin Brokovich. My only problem with the movie is that the robot voice sounded a little too human for the good Father. Anyway, would you lot like to see my mad ramblings in the form of robot-voiced-anthropomorphic-animals?
Finally, a news aggregator brought me this great article/editorial about why Men’s Magazines are failing. It’s got a lot of funny bits in there about the disconnect between covers and content, how the magazines can be described as “cars, tits, danger, six-packs, tits, booze, football, tits, and tits” And some keen observations of male consumers and how we really feel about this stuff. It’s rare that I identify as strongly with some random article written by someone I’ve never heard of as I did this one. Now, it came to me as an e-mail in plain text. So it wasn’t until after I read it, I realized from the linked source that it’s from the Independent in England. You guys thought I was joking about becoming British in my old age. Joke’s on you it would seem.
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