Multi-Media Week!

I apologize. This should have gone up yesterday, but it was my Grandmother's 96th birthday, so yeah.
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Now that I have completely random crap out of my system, it’s time for me to move on to multi-media week! Because obviously I needed another theme week in a row in order to keep my mind from wandering out to pasture and never coming back. So anyways, this week I’ll be doing a lot of reviewing. I guess. Of franchises that span multiple mediums. So it’ll be fun. I hope you can handle all the fun it will be. I’ll start this off with everybody’s favorite cartoon rabbit, Roger.

What, you thought it’d be Bugs? Bugs is a pain in the ass. I always rooted for Daffy, personally. I think the only thing Bugs ever did that I laughed at was to quote Shakespeare. Specifically the time he said “what light through yonder window breaks” and then threw a rock through a stained glass window. Poked me right in the center of my Breaking Things is Awesome Cortex. If you don’t have one, or you feel yours may be underdeveloped the problem is easily diagnosed but difficult to fix. Chances are, you’re missing the Y Chromosome. Or you might just be an idiot since clearly aimless, wanton destruction is the shit. But fear not. Because Roger doesn’t rely on needless destruction. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t cause plenty of it, but whatever.

So in order to save time in the first actual review, let me briefly explain the franchise’s history. Gary Wolf wrote a book, sort of a hard-boiled detective parody called Who Censored Roger Rabbit way back in the day. It was completely different from the movie that it inspired, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, probably because the movie had been drugged, tortured and forced to kneel before a committee of mean-spirited corporate jerks. But an amazing thing happened. Yes folks, the power of true love came to the rescue, and despite the fact that the movie bore essentially no resemblance to the book whatsoever, they chose to actually make a good product which is quite rare in Hollywood. The success of the movie inspired Wolf to write ANOTHER book using the characters called Who P-P-P-Plugged Roger Rabbit? This book, sadly is the only major entry in the franchise I am not familiar with since the only time I ever saw a copy it was in hardcover and on principle I don’t buy hardcover. I do however accept hardcover books about murdered cartoon rabbits as a bribe. Just saying is all. Anyway, the interesting thing to note is that this second book was no more connected to the first than the movie was. In my years of nerd-dom, I became familiar with the concept of a meta-series because they’re common enough in Japan. It may take a little getting used to but it actually works out pretty well. You can think of it as alternate dimensions if you want. Regardless, a meta-series is when characters, setting, theme or any combination of them link two projects which are not directly connected and indeed, would sometimes outright contradict one another if they were by having completely different timelines, or using the same characters but with different relationships between them, etc. So get used to that idea because you’ll probably see it a few times this week.

Now, there are only two reasons people read reviews. One is for the entertainment value of the reviewer and their bombastic, over the top nit picking, and the other is for an arbitrary score which tells you at a glance whether or not the product is worth your time. I’m really not keen on giving you a simple answer because a recommendation depends. Are you stupid, or do you agree with me? So all this week, my reviews will boil down to sweetened confections. Confused? You won’t be after the next post on Crewd Philosophy!

Random Crap Week Part VI

So every now and then, someone chooses to follow me on twitter, which is odd because I really don’t say anything. And while I will occasionally stop lurking for a moment to comment on a blog… I do no such thing with Twitter. Still, I said “I should at least see who it is. It seems to me the polite thing to do is to follow your followers right back.” So I looked her up. If her face image is to be believed, she’s quite cute. Also, her most recent tweet at the time read something like “Watching Firefly on Netflix and eyeing WIP apologetically.” Well, good enough for me. What say you and I get hitched, mysterious twitter lady*? What’s that you say? You’re already happily married and have children? Worry not, darling. True love conquers all.

Just kidding! I put marriage, or even romance on roughly the same level as professional wrestling. I acknowledge it only briefly and intermittently, and even then only for the sake of snickering at those foolish enough to indulge in it.

“The best part about going to war is not having to fight in it.” General Jacob Gallbladder and the Art of War Book II: On Being an Officer.

Returning to what is ostensibly the core of this blog- working in the publishing industry, I’d like to vent about wankers/give advice for all you authors, especially those as yet unrepresented ones. When I e-mail you politely asking you to RESUBMIT FOLLOWING OUR SUBMISSION GUIDELINES this does not mean that we’re requesting the full and it doesn’t give you the right to act as if we’re a breath away from drawing up a contract. I’m just giving you the chance to do things properly. I could just as easily have deleted you, or rejected you for your inability to read our website BUT I’m such a kind and compassionate fellow (shutup, I am) that I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt and I don’t want to miss out on a good book, especially when I know how confusing and mind numbing it can be when you’re sending things to a hundred places. It’s a lot like looking for a job and in the middle of an interview trying to remember if this is the company with the data center is Des Moines, Delhi or the dark side of the moon, and fearing that you’ll get it wrong, freezing up and using your stock speech. It happens. I don’t want to penalize you for it. But stop abusing it. Also stop assuming it moves you instantly to the top of the pile. Because all these other people are also waiting for a response and they actually sent their bloody manuscript sample.

Also, for shits and giggles, I think you should all pretend that I speak very fast (which I do) but in a British accent (which I don’t). British accents make the perfect villain voices, and I do say bloody a lot so I can only imagine that right now you’re picturing me twirling my handlebar moustache and tying your beloved manuscript to the railroad tracks.

On a final note, do any of you watch Castle? It’s a crime drama/sitcom about a writer who shadows police (and all the requisite job tension and romantic wackiness he has with a gorgeous lead detective) starring the same guy who was Captain of the Spacecowboys in Firefly, the show Mysterious Twitter Lady is watching. Anyway, the show always makes me feel slightly uncomfortable. Mostly because the main character’s daughter is also gorgeous and I’m not even sure she’s legal, so I always get this dirty feeling for acknowledging how cute she is. I am not okay with this. I demand TV shows be populated with ugly people to assuage my conscience.

*I wrote this a week ago and have since discovered that she’s been officially signed at our agency. Congratulations to Shelley Watters.

Random Crap Week V

Let me tell you a little story about bullshit. The Chinese phrase which means “that isn’t true” is bu shi, which is pronounced sort of like “boo sure.” As you may know, I’m America’s diplomatic representative to the Republic of Mikoslavia. Every now and then I bump into Chinese diplomats while I’m there and my translators find themselves saying bu shi an awful lot. Pretending, you know, that it’s what I was saying all along. Another true story about bu shi. Everytime I write it in MS Word, it automatically gets changed to “bus hi.” What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I got a query the other day that had one of the best opening sentences in a query letter ever. But it was addressed to Michael. What Michael? There is no Michael at our agency. You guys think I’m just paranoid or something but I swear I can’t spit without hitting a Michael these days. It’s driving me nuts. So now I need to outline an international Dan Brown conspiracy thriller about a secret, ancient cult of Michaels. Anyone interested in co-authoring? Not really my genre.

I also wanted to let you all know something. Something important. The truth hurts. Get over it. Notably, when I went back to grab the web address for that link, the ad on the side was for a promotion at Jack in the Box. I haven’t seen a Jack in the Box since 1997, and never in the Northeast. Which is where I live. That’s some good, targeted advertising right there. Hey don’t blame me just because your marketing department doesn’t know Jack. I just call’s it like I see’s it. So let me repeat: The truth hurts. It would hurt less if people weren’t dumb. And the funny thing is, very few people truly are dumb. But they sure act like it. And while I don't claim omnipotence or anything, I get the feeling most people don't even care when they fall flat on their face.

“If history has taught us anything, it’s that history hasn’t taught us anything.” General Jacob Gallbladder and the Art of War book III: Deep Thoughts

Hey, check it out- I'm infamous! And for all the wrong reasons. Should I apologize for giving free advice? Is being called a "gentle reader" (which is supposed to be a humorous and very Clockwork Orange thing given dark humor throughout this blog) really so insulting? I know this little blog isn't everyone's cup of tea but I'm unsure how to handle the idea that its very premise is offensive. Should I be insulted? Or flattered? After all, if no one has strong reactions, you must not be saying anything important. I wish if they'd hate my guts they'd at least listen to what I'm saying first. At least then I'd be confident that they hate me for the right reasons :)

Random Crap Week Part IV

Just thought I’d mention another thing about queries at the agency. While there are more books that take place in Ireland than NY (why?) and more about synesthesia, than about Asia, I get the feeling that the authors who DO write about Asia expect me to be automatically sympathetic as one who studied Asia extensively as an undergrad, having studied IN China and worked in Japan. First of all, let me start by saying I absolutely hated the company I worked for in Japan and it was a miserable time that very nearly made me hate the entire country. Eventually I got over it (Through the magic of samurai movies and giant robots) but that’s neither here nor there. Did I study East Asia? Yes. Did I love to do so? Yes. Does that mean I love every book with a Chinese protagonist or which takes place right outside the DMZ in the ROK circa 1960? Well, no. In fact the other way around. Sort of. Because I love the subject, I’m ultra receptive to GOOD books. Bad books which happen to feature Asia on the other hand really piss me off. I’ll see ones where characters will have two surnames because the writer got confused and thought it was a given name when it isn’t. Shit like that tips me off that I will not be friends with that author. ‘Sides, these books rarely line up with what the agency is looking for. Which is a shame, really. Understandable though. Like I said, I studied it. Would I be in a position to write a book that actually takes place there or something? Hell no. Sometimes knowing a subject well also means that until you’ve examined each facet individually, you don’t know the half of it.

So I just realized that an “old” SRPG is being re-released on the Playstation Network. What is an SRPG? Well, it’s more complicated than this, but it’s chess if chess were also a book. That is, it’s a turn based tactical war simulation WITH A PLOT. Horror of horrors. Why does that matter you might ask? Well, Saiyuki: Journey West is a loose adaptation of The Legend of the Monkey King/Journey to the West which I mentioned on this blog just a few weeks ago. As you can imagine, Eduardo my thesis monkey and Travis, my howler monkey/body double are very excited. Eduardo is angry because it takes liberties with the book. Travis doesn’t care about that. He’s too busy running around the house, screaming at the top of his lungs and declaring himself to be the one of a kind Stone Monkey King, lord of the island of fruits and flowers while hitting things with a big stick (what happened to the speak softly part?) which he claims is his gold banded, as-you-will iron cudgel. In reality, it’s just a stick he picked out of the snow. Either way, they’re making my life hell whether I choose to play it or not. What’s that you say? You finally understand why I’m always talking about Eduardo and Travis? You think they’re the personification of my ego and id respectively? Well, who the fuck asked you?

Speaking of asking you things, I think this past poll was the first one to have a demonstrably correct, universal answer. And no one picked it. Barry Mann is the mann...err, man who put the bomp (in the bomp, bomp, bomp) given that he wrote the song. Have to say I wouldn't have picked a serious answer either. Although I'm a little surprised at how popular the second gunman from the Grassy Knoll was. I guess anything can seem hilarious if it's out of place enough?

Random Crap Day/Week Part III

For some bizarre reason, we must get at least three books about Synesthesia a week at the agency. Never heard of it? According to a wiggly red line, neither has Microsoft Word. Neither did I and I aced AP and college bio along with three psych classes, including abnormal and had several friends whose parents (in the plural! Including one guy psychologist parents wanted to be a neurologist!) until recently. Now I wish people stop telling me about it. Apparently it’s a weird and VERY RARE neurological disorder which manifests in what I can only call impossible, imaginary sensations. Not that it actually seems too bad. I mean, I have no interest in SMELLING purple, but unless purple smells like a hobo, I don’t see the problem. And yet these books uniformly spend lengthy portions of the query telling me about the disorder as if I hadn’t heard the song and dance a hundred times. Shit, I thought it was supposed to be rare. Where are these books coming from? Clearly everyone who knows anyone with this disorder has made a pact to write a book and send it to the agency I’m at. And the best part? They’re always “we must protect small synesthetic children from the bad reputations they receive from declaring that that the number 12 is very hot today.” I’m pretty sure no one is going to be like “You’re a liar and idiot.” And if someone does and that ruins a child’s life forever? Well, the truth hurts. Get over it. I mean, um. Buck up. You're not lying. You're just wrong. In all seriousness though,the synesthetic community has apparently already misappropriated the Giver by Lois Lowry the damn, dirty thieves. What more do you want? If you’re looking to make synesthesia a fad, I’d say mission successful. If it annoys me this much, it must be popular.


“Voltaire once said that God is always on the side of the larger army. God and I have many things in common.” General Jacob Gallbladder and the Art of War Book I: Tactics.


I think I may have accidentally discovered the secret identity of la rejectionista (no I won’t tell you) and convinced a friend that I’m a psychic at the same time. A winner is me. His name is Wilkin. When he asked me how I figured that out, as well as a couple of other things which he knew the answer about for sure and which I was merely speculating on but turned out to be correct, I told Wilkin that my deductions were elementary. And then I giggled like a schoolgirl.

Random Crap Day Part II

The importance of being Michael- My godfather’s name is Michael. We had lengthy discussions on the subject of Zork last weekend. My best friend since highschool’s name is Michael. He lives in a house with two other guys named Michael he met in college. They’re known as the Mikeumvirate, lords of Mikoslavia. Michael is the most well known archangel. This blog has been referencing films with Michael Cera a lot lately (e.g. Scott Pilgrim and Superbad). I was unaware that I was a “fan” until I saw Jesse Eisenberg’s (now famous for his role in “the Social Network”) portrayal of “Columbus” in Zombieland and instantly dubbed him “that fake, crappy Michael Cera” to the universal applause of friends and family. Actually, I just saw Zombieland for the first time the other day. It was pretty bad. Female lead Emma Stone (“Wichita”) was pretty good though. And also hot. And now that I think about it she was in Superbad. In case you were wondering, and in case I needed more proof that everyone, including the movie’s director spent their time wishing with all their might that Eisenberg might suddenly become A MICHAEL, which is clearly the most important thing. Example: The Nostalgia Critic’s review last week? A crappy sequel to a movie based on a book written by Michael Crichton. I looked up the guy who wrote the first novel I ever read. He’s still active. In fact, if you want him to come to your elementary school and teach the kiddies about the hell that is life as a writer, you need but contact his assistant- Michael. All things are coming up Michael right now. If you’re a Michael, congratulations. If you’re not a Michael, it sucks to be you. I’ll be sure to let everyone know when, like, Jonas week begins.

I also read the Scott Pilgrim comics during one of my visits to Mikoslavia, because they were in the possession of on Michael or another. Not sure which. You may have missed it, but there’s a lot of them. They’re everywhere. Disguised as normal people. Virtually indistinguishable from me or you.

Speaking of stupid theme days, like Random Crap Day, my brother and I had a chance to discuss Weird Al’s Straight Out of Lynwood album recently. See, it’s funny because despite the fact that he’s handsome and successful and happy and all that jazz (uh, I could be. I just don’t wanna. So there. Nyah), no one could ever NOT realize we’re brothers. Although they usually think I’m the older one for some reason. Anyway, we both declared that the album had only one bad song. So we delved deeper. Both of us felt that song was Weasel Stomping Day. Further investigation required! This feeling was bolstered for both of us because we got the impression that it was inspired by Whacking Day. Well. Great minds and all that. Coincidentally, according to that linked article, there were actual whacking day in Eastchester, where my Godfather, Uncle Michael was raised. See? See? Everywhere I go, there’s a MICHAEL. It’s gotta be some sort of world wide Michael conspiracy. I’m on to you Michael. Err, Michaels.

Random Crap Week Part I

And so he declared it INTERNATIONAL RANDOM CRAP DAY FOR A WEEK and lo was it so.

So the other day I was out driving around my town and I saw these two guys using a backhoe to plow snow. And the best part? We have less snow right now than we’ve had at any time since the day after Christmas.

Speaking of snow, I was watching the news this morning. I don’t know why they bother. They could honestly just play one ten minute tape on a loop all winter and no one would notice. See, they blabbered on and on about snow. Took two seconds out to admit that international crises a la Libya EXIST, then went back to the snow. With fifteen correspondents to cover every county within 50 miles of NYC. And let me tell you, these dedicated folks make some truly brilliant observations. They spent all their screen time sharing such astonishingly thought provoking insights as “there is snow on the ground” and “snow is white. Everything is covered in snow. Everything is very white.” At least if it had been cable news, perhaps they’d have had the cajones to remind viewers not to eat yellow snow (and apparently their viewers need such reminders). Unfortunately, it was network news and therefore under strict censorship. I just kept waiting for the announcer to tell me that this hour long weather and traffic report was sponsored by the letter L.

The same day I saw the backhoe, a reader created an awful (awfully funny) false query to demonstrate how dumb your query looks when you ignore good advice. It was pretty great. For a moment, I even held hope that the sheer hilarity that has transpired on this humble blog in recent times would educate the world and I’d stop getting bad queries. It was only a moment, because I was immediately assailed by an aspiring author with a very unprofessional e-mail address who sent FIVE manuscripts SEPERATELY, for books the agency has little interest in, ALL AS ATTACHMENTS, all at the same time with letters that could be described as marginally better than a gunshot wound to the genitals… if you were feeling generous.

“Time is like a river. Everyone dumps their garbage in it, so it gets really grody downstream.” General Jacob Gallbladder and the Art of War Book III: Deep Thoughts.