Christmas seemed like an appropriate time for an update. I've mostly constrained myself to comments about writing and the literary industry in general. However, the only two news items in those areas pertaining to me are 1: I persist in writing every day and 2: I am waiting for already sold works to be published.
So, I beg your kind indulgence while I list (in no particular order) various tidbits of life experience I hope to impart to my nephew.
1. Value intangible goods over material goods. Humans are spiritual beings and discounting or denying that fact neglects a whole dimension of one's life. The exclusive pursuit of wealth and its temporal fruits tends to leave a person dissatisfied, jaded, and restless.
2. Don't be afraid to play with knives and fire. The best way to learn something is to do it--even moreso for something useful. I don't advocate the reckless pairing of children and sharp objects, but fostering ingenuity under proper supervision is far better than instilling irrational fear under the guise of protection.
3. You can't be "anything you want to be" when you grow up. This old chestnut is a popular platitude on daytime kids' TV and in elementary schools, even though it's demonstrably false. I for one would gladly have traded the stress and confusion engendered by this "liberating" bit of misinformation for more structure and guidance. Alex Cross had it right. It's, "you do what you are," not "you are what you do".
4. You are not the most important person in existence, which correlates nicely with:
5. Everyone is not equal. But that doesn't give you the right to belittle or use others. In fact, it's really humbling if you think about it. No matter how good you are at something, there's always someone better. But that's OK, because...
6. Your value as a human being doesn't depend on your worldly success. Not everyone is equal, but every person is equally valuble. Striving to be #1 is fine, but considering point 5 above, being #18 is perfectly acceptable if you've given it your best shot.
7. When you try your best, you can still fail anyway. Avoid the trauma of having real life violently burst your sense of entitlement by not developing one in the first place. Despite what literally every sports movie would have you believe, it is quite possible to follow all the rules, give your all, and still come up short--the first few times. The trick is persistence.
8. Be really sure before pursuing a four-year degree. Probably the most practical piece of advice here. A lot of folks in your grandparents' generation will insist that attending a university is mandatory. They have your best interests at heart, but that information only applied from ca. 1960-1995. The cost of higher education has risen so high as to negate the earnings advantage of a degree compared to just starting work after high school.
I'm not trying to discourage anyone from getting a four-year degree in general. I'm just cautioning aspiring university students to be absolutely sure about their calling before accepting a financial obligation that will affect the rest of their lives. Go for it if you know what you were meant to do and doing it requires a bachelor's degree. On the other hand, if you aren't sure, there's an abundance of fine junior colleges which will impart the foundational knowledge needed to operate as a functional human being in our society. They're also far cheaper than universities. If you still don't receive the epiphany that launches you on the path of your vocation, go and take whatever job seems least odious to you.
9. Don't confuse your job with your calling. Your vocation is like the Blues Brothers' proverbial "mission from God". It's the passionate endeavor that you'd gladly do for free but can hopefully identify and get paid for. Really, you can exercise your calling in pretty much any job. It just takes a little discernment and creativity.
10. Don't become obsessed with avoiding suffering. Though I've already refuted one tired aphorism, there's another, even more cliched axiom that I heartily endorse: "no pain, no gain". The lengths to which most people will go to avoid the least bit of discomfort are readily apparent. Don't become a masochist, but avoid the temptation to self-medicate via the myriad means available. Learn to work through trials and setbacks to make yourself more resilient. Fostering a healthy level of self-denial and learning to savor delayed gratification will make you happier in the long run.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
After the Drought: When it Rains, it Pours
I'm back with important updates on two short story submissions.
First, editor Mike Sweeney over at Jersey Devil Press has given me a conditional release date of January 3 for their next issue, featuring my first short story "Beta Geminorum". Many thanks to him again.
Secondly, my second short story "Reign of Terror" has been accepted for publication in Title Goes Here:. That story is slated to appear in the upcoming April issue. Again, I owe a big debt of thanks to editor Inanna Gabriel.
And as always, thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read my manuscripts and to everyone reading this.
First, editor Mike Sweeney over at Jersey Devil Press has given me a conditional release date of January 3 for their next issue, featuring my first short story "Beta Geminorum". Many thanks to him again.
Secondly, my second short story "Reign of Terror" has been accepted for publication in Title Goes Here:. That story is slated to appear in the upcoming April issue. Again, I owe a big debt of thanks to editor Inanna Gabriel.
And as always, thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read my manuscripts and to everyone reading this.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Gold
Jersey Devil Press just accepted "Beta Geminorum" for publication. Thanks to them, Nick, Merrilee, Mick, JJ, Ben, and everyone who's given me advice and encouragement.
Next we query editors and agents about the novel.
Next we query editors and agents about the novel.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Submission to the Devil
After having my first short story "Beta Geminorum" returned unread after a five month wait, I've resubmitted it to Jersey Devil Press.
They're an online magazine that publishes yearly anthologies. They also profess to enjoy weird fiction over there. I hope my work meets their standards.
As always, I'll keep you posted.
They're an online magazine that publishes yearly anthologies. They also profess to enjoy weird fiction over there. I hope my work meets their standards.
As always, I'll keep you posted.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Nethereal Third Draft
I finally finished the third draft of my novel yesterday. I ended up trimming the final page count by about a hundred pages, just from tightening up dialogue and reducing unnecessary exposition. It should now be far easier for a reader to forget about the book and get lost in the story.
Finishing this project doesn't mean I'm done. Not remotely. Next on the agenda is revising and resubmitting my first short story. I'll let you know how it goes.
Finishing this project doesn't mean I'm done. Not remotely. Next on the agenda is revising and resubmitting my first short story. I'll let you know how it goes.
Friday, October 7, 2011
NPI: Conclusion
Well, the Novel Push Initiative over at 5-Rings is over. I put in a decent second place showing, but my hat's off to everyone who participated, especially Ryan G. Sanders, who blew me away. He is not unlike some kind of machine that writes.
Nick said that I can keep going if I want. Since I'd been writing every day for nine months before NPI started, I see no reason not to continue.So I will.
Update: the latest revision of Nethereal is up to page 385, and the total page count is currently 659 down from 737. I've noticed that I reduce the page count by one every day from removing unnecessary dialogue and exposition alone. If this trend continues, I should be done in six weeks. Then it's on to polishing up "Beta Geminorum" for resubmission.
Nick said that I can keep going if I want. Since I'd been writing every day for nine months before NPI started, I see no reason not to continue.So I will.
Update: the latest revision of Nethereal is up to page 385, and the total page count is currently 659 down from 737. I've noticed that I reduce the page count by one every day from removing unnecessary dialogue and exposition alone. If this trend continues, I should be done in six weeks. Then it's on to polishing up "Beta Geminorum" for resubmission.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Weirder Tale
After sending in a postal submission of my first short story to Weird Tales back in April, I finally heard back from them today--sort of.
My returned SASE and manuscript were accompanied by a form letter explaining that the magazine has changed hands again, and submissions are closed pending the installation of a new editor-in-chief.
They didn't read my story, but this isn't quite a non-response. I'll figure out how to categorize this business over at Duotrope.
The best part is that I'm finally free to resubmit my first story (the second one has already been out three times). It's gonna need a lot of work, so I plan to wait until Nick's novel push initiative is over before diving into short story revisions.
As always, I'll keep you posted.
My returned SASE and manuscript were accompanied by a form letter explaining that the magazine has changed hands again, and submissions are closed pending the installation of a new editor-in-chief.
They didn't read my story, but this isn't quite a non-response. I'll figure out how to categorize this business over at Duotrope.
The best part is that I'm finally free to resubmit my first story (the second one has already been out three times). It's gonna need a lot of work, so I plan to wait until Nick's novel push initiative is over before diving into short story revisions.
As always, I'll keep you posted.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Five Rings NPI
I've joined the Novel Push Initiative over at Nick's Five Rings web site. I'm in some august company there, and when asked how many words per diem I'd pledge, my answer of 1300 seemed reasonable. After all, it's roughly how much I've been editing every day. I'll admit to being made slightly anxious by the fact that many writers far better and more experienced than myself have pledged 250 words. It's possible they know something I don't.
Anyway, I'm not revoking my pledge--simply because that's how much ground I need to cover every day to get the novel revised on schedule. I'll be posting my progress on Facebook.
Good luck to all participants.
Anyway, I'm not revoking my pledge--simply because that's how much ground I need to cover every day to get the novel revised on schedule. I'll be posting my progress on Facebook.
Good luck to all participants.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Hollywood: the Money Triumphs over Art
Earlier this month, Disney executive Andy Hendrickson declared that visual spectacle; not a good script, is what draws audiences to movies. The chief technical officer produced a chart showing revenues for the twelve highest grossing films of all time as evidence.
Hendrickson's announcement begs the question of why story is losing to spectacle. One disturbing answer is that western society is outright losing the ability to tell stories. This argument gains some traction when you consider Aristotle's Poetics, in which he laid out the basic principles of what makes good stories work. All of his points boil down to this: because the satisfaction derived from a story depends on the feeling of catharsis achieved in the resolution, and since that catharsis arises from the validation of the audience's shared values, it's very difficult to satisfy an audience that can't agree on which values are important. In the absence of engaging stories, filmmakers are appealing to the lowest common denominator.
I'm inclined to take Hendrickson's pessimistic assessment with a grain of salt. There are still movies like The Return of the King, Toy Story 3, and The Dark Knight on that list. Sure, they ain't exactly Shakespeare, but all of them feature solid characters and thought-provoking plots. Hendrickson is also referencing the worldwide box office numbers. Checking the US records adds the likes of Star Wars and E.T. to the list. Both of those films certainly boasted impressive special effects, but they also epitomize master storytellers Spielberg and Lucas at the height of their creative powers.
Frankly, the USA figures surprised me. I'd expected to find it populated with even more mindless CG-fests than infested the world market. Then I pondered the reason for my initial prejudice and the situation started making sense. The current crop of money-driven, committee-written productions has made me forget that the likes of Spielberg, Lucas, and Cameron once produced genuine works of art to critical and commercial acclaim. Another look at the list reveals a second interesting phenomenon. Highly creative and popular films are still being made, Americans just aren't making them anymore.
Hendrickson's outlook seems symptomatic of the profit chasing that's robbed Hollywood of its vision. The studios have abandoned the concept of making films for the love of the art. Luckily, enterprising outsiders like Sir Peter Jackson, Guillermo del Toro, and Christopher Nolan have stepped forward to pick up the torch.
I think the record shows that you can still make a story-driven movie centered around a well-written script and solid performances. It probably won't outperform the next bloated, gimmick-laden, rehashed tentpole flick; but as long as the world gives people common experiences to share, storytellers will always have an audience.
Hendrickson's announcement begs the question of why story is losing to spectacle. One disturbing answer is that western society is outright losing the ability to tell stories. This argument gains some traction when you consider Aristotle's Poetics, in which he laid out the basic principles of what makes good stories work. All of his points boil down to this: because the satisfaction derived from a story depends on the feeling of catharsis achieved in the resolution, and since that catharsis arises from the validation of the audience's shared values, it's very difficult to satisfy an audience that can't agree on which values are important. In the absence of engaging stories, filmmakers are appealing to the lowest common denominator.
I'm inclined to take Hendrickson's pessimistic assessment with a grain of salt. There are still movies like The Return of the King, Toy Story 3, and The Dark Knight on that list. Sure, they ain't exactly Shakespeare, but all of them feature solid characters and thought-provoking plots. Hendrickson is also referencing the worldwide box office numbers. Checking the US records adds the likes of Star Wars and E.T. to the list. Both of those films certainly boasted impressive special effects, but they also epitomize master storytellers Spielberg and Lucas at the height of their creative powers.
Frankly, the USA figures surprised me. I'd expected to find it populated with even more mindless CG-fests than infested the world market. Then I pondered the reason for my initial prejudice and the situation started making sense. The current crop of money-driven, committee-written productions has made me forget that the likes of Spielberg, Lucas, and Cameron once produced genuine works of art to critical and commercial acclaim. Another look at the list reveals a second interesting phenomenon. Highly creative and popular films are still being made, Americans just aren't making them anymore.
Hendrickson's outlook seems symptomatic of the profit chasing that's robbed Hollywood of its vision. The studios have abandoned the concept of making films for the love of the art. Luckily, enterprising outsiders like Sir Peter Jackson, Guillermo del Toro, and Christopher Nolan have stepped forward to pick up the torch.
I think the record shows that you can still make a story-driven movie centered around a well-written script and solid performances. It probably won't outperform the next bloated, gimmick-laden, rehashed tentpole flick; but as long as the world gives people common experiences to share, storytellers will always have an audience.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Saving the Hero
The last few years have seen a spate of super hero films, culminating in this summer's glut of spandex-clad protagonists. But for every Dark Knight there seem to be many more Green Lanterns. For every Iron Man, there are a score of X-Men 3s. For every Captain America, there's a Captain America.
Despite the rare critical and commercial hits that continue to justify the comic book movie genre, superheroes are faring even worse on their home turf.
My associates and I were pondering this strange state of affairs, and we resolved to try our hand at writing a superhero story that avoids the pitfalls and cliches that got the comics industry stuck in its current rut.
Our first step has been to compile a list of source material intended to exemplify what comics have done right in recent decades. For inspiration, we chose seminal graphic novels and miniseries that rescued superheroes from past periods of malaise. Our hope is that what these magna opera did for Batman, Superman, adult trade, and the industry in general can be done again in these turbulent times.
Yet the question still remains. How did superheroes' ray-deflecting wristbands lose their lustre? What tarnished their reputation? Comments regarding how the superhero genre can regain its appeal are most certainly welcome.
Despite the rare critical and commercial hits that continue to justify the comic book movie genre, superheroes are faring even worse on their home turf.
My associates and I were pondering this strange state of affairs, and we resolved to try our hand at writing a superhero story that avoids the pitfalls and cliches that got the comics industry stuck in its current rut.
Our first step has been to compile a list of source material intended to exemplify what comics have done right in recent decades. For inspiration, we chose seminal graphic novels and miniseries that rescued superheroes from past periods of malaise. Our hope is that what these magna opera did for Batman, Superman, adult trade, and the industry in general can be done again in these turbulent times.
Yet the question still remains. How did superheroes' ray-deflecting wristbands lose their lustre? What tarnished their reputation? Comments regarding how the superhero genre can regain its appeal are most certainly welcome.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Checking In
I've been really busy at work lately, and this increased activity has been largely responsible for my recent drop in posting volume. Exacerbating matters is the fact that very little of note is currently happening in regard to my writing. I'm still slogging away at the Nethereal revisions. However, my change in circumstances has cut my productivity in half.
Still no word on either short story. I've been twelve weeks waiting on Weird Tales. I don't have a ticket number since I made a postal sub, and I can't find an e-mail address where they can be queried despite scouring their web site. I suppose I'll just have to treat the matter as an exercise in patience.
As always, I shall hasten to post any new developments.
Still no word on either short story. I've been twelve weeks waiting on Weird Tales. I don't have a ticket number since I made a postal sub, and I can't find an e-mail address where they can be queried despite scouring their web site. I suppose I'll just have to treat the matter as an exercise in patience.
As always, I shall hasten to post any new developments.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Art Idea
I have to credit Mick with what I think is a great idea for acquiring novel illustrations. When I wrote about an author's financial responsibilities to the publisher, I mentioned that the writer is often required to provide artwork or pay someone else to create it. I somehow forgot about the legions of university art students struggling to build their portfolios.
Mick's suggestion was to approach a student artist with a proposal to draft illustrations for a soon to be published book, which would add to the artist's body of work while increasing his exposure. Even if the publisher rejected the artwork, it would give their in-house design department visual aids to realizing the author's vision.
And of course, a student would be far more likely to work for the experience alone, or at least at a far lower cost than a professional.
Mick's suggestion was to approach a student artist with a proposal to draft illustrations for a soon to be published book, which would add to the artist's body of work while increasing his exposure. Even if the publisher rejected the artwork, it would give their in-house design department visual aids to realizing the author's vision.
And of course, a student would be far more likely to work for the experience alone, or at least at a far lower cost than a professional.
Monday, July 25, 2011
No Rest for the Wicked
As everyone who's been following this blog knows, I've been slogging through the process of revising Souldancer. In the meantime, additional feedback has been coming in on Nethereal. These comments have been very helpful, and have pointed out to me that there are still plenty of ways for the manuscript to be improved.
Because I want to submit the strongest manuscript possible, I've decided to put SD on the back burner and concentrate on re-editing the first book. The aim is to further streamline the descriptions, trim superfluous expository text, and make the whole narrative more accessible.
I'm setting a daily goal of ten pages. At that rate, the revisions should only take about ten weeks.
Because I want to submit the strongest manuscript possible, I've decided to put SD on the back burner and concentrate on re-editing the first book. The aim is to further streamline the descriptions, trim superfluous expository text, and make the whole narrative more accessible.
I'm setting a daily goal of ten pages. At that rate, the revisions should only take about ten weeks.
Friday, July 22, 2011
My Blog Has Forgotten Who I Am
After several failed attempts to post a reply to the comments on my own blog, I've opted to use a hammer in place of a brush.
Thanks for the tips everybody.
Kaze, I'll try those adjustments.
Merrilee, which word processor do you recommend for novels?
Thanks for the tips everybody.
Kaze, I'll try those adjustments.
Merrilee, which word processor do you recommend for novels?
Weapon of Choice
Update to the previous post: with the help of a couple friends, my system is now running Windows 7 Professional and MS Office 2010, also professional.
I was told there would be a bit of a learning curve to deal with, and truer words were never said. However, I found myself able to carry out the tasks for which I most often use the PC without much difficulty.
The most noticeable improvement is the banishment of those annoying, irremovable footers that Open and Libre Office automatically inserted into my manuscripts whenever I added a header. On the other hand, the book that I'd pruned down to 1295 pages is now in excess of 1400 due solely to the act of opening it in Word.
Oh well, give and take...
I was told there would be a bit of a learning curve to deal with, and truer words were never said. However, I found myself able to carry out the tasks for which I most often use the PC without much difficulty.
The most noticeable improvement is the banishment of those annoying, irremovable footers that Open and Libre Office automatically inserted into my manuscripts whenever I added a header. On the other hand, the book that I'd pruned down to 1295 pages is now in excess of 1400 due solely to the act of opening it in Word.
Oh well, give and take...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
It's a Poor Craftsman Who Blames His Tools
I'll now be discussing my ongoing ordeal with word processors. Fair warning to anyone who doesn't find that topic fascinating.
This PC never had MS Office, so I started out using Open Office. When various weird formatting errors popped up, I switched to Libre Office. That program worked slightly better but still, you get what you pay for.
I finally bought Windows 7 Professional as well as MS Office 2010. Upon trying to install Windows 7, I was informed that I couldn't simply upgrade from Vista Home Basic, adding another snag to my plans. Plus, I'd been running the 32 bit version of Vista due to the mistaken belief that my processor couldn't handle the 64 bit version. Now if I want to upgrade to Windows 7 64, I'll have to erase all of my settings and data and start over. So I'll be sticking with Windows 7 32.
This PC never had MS Office, so I started out using Open Office. When various weird formatting errors popped up, I switched to Libre Office. That program worked slightly better but still, you get what you pay for.
I finally bought Windows 7 Professional as well as MS Office 2010. Upon trying to install Windows 7, I was informed that I couldn't simply upgrade from Vista Home Basic, adding another snag to my plans. Plus, I'd been running the 32 bit version of Vista due to the mistaken belief that my processor couldn't handle the 64 bit version. Now if I want to upgrade to Windows 7 64, I'll have to erase all of my settings and data and start over. So I'll be sticking with Windows 7 32.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Choosing an Agent: Commissions and Fees
If there's one hard and fast rule for selecting a literary agent it's this: all money should flow toward the author.
There's much more to the process, which Writer Beware can tell you much better than I can.
There's much more to the process, which Writer Beware can tell you much better than I can.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Souldancer Progress Report 3
Total page count: down to 1295.
Currently editing: page 251 (sort of).
I said before how the difficulty of this project has exceeded my expectations. That comment was made back when I was mostly replacing troublesome phrases, trimming down excessively wordy sentences, condensing rambling dialogue, and occasionally deleting a few paragraphs.
Now I've stumbled upon a situation that is wholly unprecedented in my short literary career. What I'm currently up against is a section of the book spanning several chapters in which roughly half of the extant material doesn't work; the other half does, but it's in the wrong order.
To borrow a parable, I'm now undertaking a grueling labor requiring me to meticulously pull weeds scattered amid a wheat field while also transplanting the healthy crops to more advantageous locations. There's also the necessity of sowing new plants to fill in the vacated spaces while reducing the overall acreage. For the first time, I'm starting to wonder whether farmers have it easier than writers. Sure, the former involves more manual labor, but I don't have the luxury of waiting till harvest day to separate the good from the bad. I doubt any editor would appreciate proofreading the resulting incomprehensible manuscript.
I am now more glad than ever that I've probably got several years before this thing is due. Not only will the project take that much time at my current rate of progress, I'll have to grow and mature as a writer in order to meet the challenges this work presents.
At least I won't come up short on blog material.
Currently editing: page 251 (sort of).
I said before how the difficulty of this project has exceeded my expectations. That comment was made back when I was mostly replacing troublesome phrases, trimming down excessively wordy sentences, condensing rambling dialogue, and occasionally deleting a few paragraphs.
Now I've stumbled upon a situation that is wholly unprecedented in my short literary career. What I'm currently up against is a section of the book spanning several chapters in which roughly half of the extant material doesn't work; the other half does, but it's in the wrong order.
To borrow a parable, I'm now undertaking a grueling labor requiring me to meticulously pull weeds scattered amid a wheat field while also transplanting the healthy crops to more advantageous locations. There's also the necessity of sowing new plants to fill in the vacated spaces while reducing the overall acreage. For the first time, I'm starting to wonder whether farmers have it easier than writers. Sure, the former involves more manual labor, but I don't have the luxury of waiting till harvest day to separate the good from the bad. I doubt any editor would appreciate proofreading the resulting incomprehensible manuscript.
I am now more glad than ever that I've probably got several years before this thing is due. Not only will the project take that much time at my current rate of progress, I'll have to grow and mature as a writer in order to meet the challenges this work presents.
At least I won't come up short on blog material.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Short Story Submission Update
I submitted my short story to Title Goes Here: yesterday. Their submission guidelines page said that I'd receive an automatic reply from their system in short order, which occurred almost instantly. They further advised me that I could expect to hear from an editor when the story went in their pile. The stated response time for the second notice was up to two weeks, so I was pleasantly surprised to get a personalized message from the co-editor in chief later that same day.
The third and final notice I'll receive will of course be the rejection (or failing that, acceptance) letter. The magazine's web site claims that the final word may not come for 120 days. However, considering the target time to actual response ratio I've experienced in my correspondence with them so far, there's reason to hope for a much speedier resolution. I'll keep you in the loop.
Mick over at This Is a Music Thing enlisted my help with the labels on his posts, so I'm off to see what I can do. I'm open to advice from anyone who cares to give their two cents on this subject.
The third and final notice I'll receive will of course be the rejection (or failing that, acceptance) letter. The magazine's web site claims that the final word may not come for 120 days. However, considering the target time to actual response ratio I've experienced in my correspondence with them so far, there's reason to hope for a much speedier resolution. I'll keep you in the loop.
Mick over at This Is a Music Thing enlisted my help with the labels on his posts, so I'm off to see what I can do. I'm open to advice from anyone who cares to give their two cents on this subject.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Collaboration
Negotiating a contract between a publisher and a single author is complicated enough, but how are publishing agreements handled in the case of a work produced by two or more collaborators? Though such arrangements can take as many forms as there are creative teams, three general standards exist.
1. Co-authorship: the collaborators enter into an arrangement wherein each receives equal credit, compensation, and responsibility for the work. Ideally, co-authors enjoy a 50/50 split of royalties and advances, but the proceeds can be divided in differing proportions as long as all of the authors agree on the terms.
The catch is that, while co-authors are entitled to all of the same rights as a single author, they are also bound by all of the same obligations. A collaborator named in a book contract as co-author is legally required to provide or pay for additional art and front/back matter along with the other writer(s) and is equally subject to the penalties and costs of litigation and/or breach of contract. As a rule, a contributor to a particular work should only be named a co-author if he understands and accepts these duties and is willing to make a long term commitment to the project.
2. Work for hire: pieces produced on a work for hire basis are legally treated as though the contracting party were the original author for all intents and purposes. The actual creator receives some form of payment but is not entitled to royalties and reserves no primary or subsidiary rights in the project--sometimes not even credit.
Copyright law provides very strict rules regulating the conditions under which work for hire agreements can be made. The most important guideline is that the party producing the work first be made aware of and agree to the conditions listed above (a piece commissioned on other terms cannot be made work for hire after the fact).
As the name implies, the vast majority of works made for hire are produced in the normal course of an artist or writer's employment. For example, an illustrator working at a graphic design firm is probably hired with the explicit understanding that all art produced during the term of employment will belong to the company. Instead of royalties, the artist is paid a salary.
3. Grant of rights: in the case of an author who receives limited material assistance from one or more collaborators with no desire to take on the burden of a book contract's warranties, indemnities, and obligations, the parties involved can privately negotiate a grant of rights.
The mechanics and legal effects of such a grant are very similar to what happens when an author sells the rights in a book to a publisher. Suppose for example that a third party contributor created a setting, character, or unique item that the author incorporated into a book. Such a collaborator probably wouldn't be entitled to the 50 percent share of a co-author (and probably isn't invested enough in the project to relish taking on the professional and legal responsibilities involved). Instead, the collaborator can sell some or all of the rights to his creation to the author, who will then deal with the publisher directly and leave the contributor free of any further obligation.
There doesn't seem to be an established precedent dictating the rate of compensation for an independent collaborator. The value of the character or setting rights is tied to the value of the whole manuscript, which can't be known until a publisher bids on it. However, such arrangements should be formalized in writing before the book contract is signed, because the publisher will want to be sure that the author possesses all the relevant rights to the work before finalizing their own agreement.
One rule that does govern agreements between authors and third party contributors is that something of tangible value should be paid by the author in exchange for the collaborator's rights--whether said compensation takes the form of a share of the royalties, a one-time payment, etc. Still, an independent contributor probably isn't going to earn as much as a full-fledged co-author.
Some publishers will deal separately with third party collaborators, but such circumstances are far from ideal due to the intricacies of subsidiary rights. Imagine a toy manufacturer who wants to make a line of action figures based on a book featuring contributions by one or more collaborators in addition to the author. If the collaborators retain full ownership of their contributions, the toy company will have to approach everyone separately and negotiate several different contracts to acquire the rights they need.
It's far more convenient and expedient for everyone involved with the book's creation to gather all of the rights in one place and agree on a means of distributing compensation beforehand. The likelihood of publication and expansion into other media also increases dramatically under such an arrangement.
1. Co-authorship: the collaborators enter into an arrangement wherein each receives equal credit, compensation, and responsibility for the work. Ideally, co-authors enjoy a 50/50 split of royalties and advances, but the proceeds can be divided in differing proportions as long as all of the authors agree on the terms.
The catch is that, while co-authors are entitled to all of the same rights as a single author, they are also bound by all of the same obligations. A collaborator named in a book contract as co-author is legally required to provide or pay for additional art and front/back matter along with the other writer(s) and is equally subject to the penalties and costs of litigation and/or breach of contract. As a rule, a contributor to a particular work should only be named a co-author if he understands and accepts these duties and is willing to make a long term commitment to the project.
2. Work for hire: pieces produced on a work for hire basis are legally treated as though the contracting party were the original author for all intents and purposes. The actual creator receives some form of payment but is not entitled to royalties and reserves no primary or subsidiary rights in the project--sometimes not even credit.
Copyright law provides very strict rules regulating the conditions under which work for hire agreements can be made. The most important guideline is that the party producing the work first be made aware of and agree to the conditions listed above (a piece commissioned on other terms cannot be made work for hire after the fact).
As the name implies, the vast majority of works made for hire are produced in the normal course of an artist or writer's employment. For example, an illustrator working at a graphic design firm is probably hired with the explicit understanding that all art produced during the term of employment will belong to the company. Instead of royalties, the artist is paid a salary.
3. Grant of rights: in the case of an author who receives limited material assistance from one or more collaborators with no desire to take on the burden of a book contract's warranties, indemnities, and obligations, the parties involved can privately negotiate a grant of rights.
The mechanics and legal effects of such a grant are very similar to what happens when an author sells the rights in a book to a publisher. Suppose for example that a third party contributor created a setting, character, or unique item that the author incorporated into a book. Such a collaborator probably wouldn't be entitled to the 50 percent share of a co-author (and probably isn't invested enough in the project to relish taking on the professional and legal responsibilities involved). Instead, the collaborator can sell some or all of the rights to his creation to the author, who will then deal with the publisher directly and leave the contributor free of any further obligation.
There doesn't seem to be an established precedent dictating the rate of compensation for an independent collaborator. The value of the character or setting rights is tied to the value of the whole manuscript, which can't be known until a publisher bids on it. However, such arrangements should be formalized in writing before the book contract is signed, because the publisher will want to be sure that the author possesses all the relevant rights to the work before finalizing their own agreement.
One rule that does govern agreements between authors and third party contributors is that something of tangible value should be paid by the author in exchange for the collaborator's rights--whether said compensation takes the form of a share of the royalties, a one-time payment, etc. Still, an independent contributor probably isn't going to earn as much as a full-fledged co-author.
Some publishers will deal separately with third party collaborators, but such circumstances are far from ideal due to the intricacies of subsidiary rights. Imagine a toy manufacturer who wants to make a line of action figures based on a book featuring contributions by one or more collaborators in addition to the author. If the collaborators retain full ownership of their contributions, the toy company will have to approach everyone separately and negotiate several different contracts to acquire the rights they need.
It's far more convenient and expedient for everyone involved with the book's creation to gather all of the rights in one place and agree on a means of distributing compensation beforehand. The likelihood of publication and expansion into other media also increases dramatically under such an arrangement.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Infinite Indenture Loop/Series Rights Paradox
I've mentioned before that I was reading Kirsch's Guide to the Book Contract, which is hands down the most terrifying book I have ever read, surpassing the work of Stephen King, Clive Barker, and Ray Bradbury. The reason is simple. The latter are works of fiction while the former is startlingly real.
The driving point of the book is to reinforce in authors' minds the maxim, "never sign anything without reading it." However, if I were allowed to only convey one warning based on my reading of Kirsch's sample contract, it would be for a writer to use any means necessary to delete or mitigate the publisher's automatic option rights and exclusive title/series development rights.
Most standard literary contracts include a clause that, by default, grants all rights to the author's next book-length work to the same publisher under the exact same terms of the initial contract. Almost every option clause also includes a noncompetition rule barring the writer from shopping the story around to any other publisher until after the first publisher has considered and rejected the new manuscript--a process that can take months or over a year.
But perhaps you've spotted the devil lurking in the details up there. Since the option clause specifies that the second book will be subject to the same rules as the first contract, the same option clause will apply to the next work, too: and the next, and the next, ad infinitum until the publisher finally rejects a manuscript. Such clauses are particularly burdensome to authors because they severely limit their output of salable work.
An equally unfavorable yet opposite clause is one that grants all rights to the first book's title, logo, setting, characters, etc. to the publisher for the express purpose of allowing the development of a further series of books based upon the first one. The standard version of such a clause almost always allows the publisher to develop sequels and prequels to the author's work without his consent, creative input, or right to compensation. In fact, Kirsch's version specifically states that the publisher is free to commission other writers to produce additional books in the series, totally preventing the original author from exercising any creative control or receiving royalties for further works.
Each of these clauses is foreboding enough on its own, but combined in the same legal document, they form a mind-scrambling paradox of Zemeckian proportions, wherein a publishing house can force an author to submit the next book to them while simultaneously allowing it to commission someone else to write that book without the original author's creative or economic participation.
Always read the fine print!
The driving point of the book is to reinforce in authors' minds the maxim, "never sign anything without reading it." However, if I were allowed to only convey one warning based on my reading of Kirsch's sample contract, it would be for a writer to use any means necessary to delete or mitigate the publisher's automatic option rights and exclusive title/series development rights.
Most standard literary contracts include a clause that, by default, grants all rights to the author's next book-length work to the same publisher under the exact same terms of the initial contract. Almost every option clause also includes a noncompetition rule barring the writer from shopping the story around to any other publisher until after the first publisher has considered and rejected the new manuscript--a process that can take months or over a year.
But perhaps you've spotted the devil lurking in the details up there. Since the option clause specifies that the second book will be subject to the same rules as the first contract, the same option clause will apply to the next work, too: and the next, and the next, ad infinitum until the publisher finally rejects a manuscript. Such clauses are particularly burdensome to authors because they severely limit their output of salable work.
An equally unfavorable yet opposite clause is one that grants all rights to the first book's title, logo, setting, characters, etc. to the publisher for the express purpose of allowing the development of a further series of books based upon the first one. The standard version of such a clause almost always allows the publisher to develop sequels and prequels to the author's work without his consent, creative input, or right to compensation. In fact, Kirsch's version specifically states that the publisher is free to commission other writers to produce additional books in the series, totally preventing the original author from exercising any creative control or receiving royalties for further works.
Each of these clauses is foreboding enough on its own, but combined in the same legal document, they form a mind-scrambling paradox of Zemeckian proportions, wherein a publishing house can force an author to submit the next book to them while simultaneously allowing it to commission someone else to write that book without the original author's creative or economic participation.
Always read the fine print!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Title Goes Here
As promised, I have decided upon the next magazine to submit my story to. This time, the lucky recipient charged with poring over my derivative, pseudo-Lovecraftian scrawl is Title Goes Here.
I'll keep you updated on further developments.
I'll keep you updated on further developments.
Monday, July 4, 2011
From Bronze to Silver
Merrilee Faber was right when she said that Three-Lobed Burning Eye is prompt. They read and rejected my short story within two days of my submission, which has to be some kind of record. Even better, this time I got a personalized response instead of a form letter. 3LBE's extremely rapid reply has been duly recorded over at Duotrope.
Not only did I receive feedback this time, it was unequivocally positive. The editor said that the story was very well written. It's just not what they're looking for at the moment.
I should be able to start looking for another magazine to submit the story to on Wednesday.
Not only did I receive feedback this time, it was unequivocally positive. The editor said that the story was very well written. It's just not what they're looking for at the moment.
I should be able to start looking for another magazine to submit the story to on Wednesday.
Friday, July 1, 2011
The Week in Brief
Thought I'd provide a week in review post to help you follow the various goings-on around here.
The second submission of the "Reign of Terror" short story has been made to Three-Lobed Burning Eye. Their web site says I can expect to hear back within 90 days.
Mick has properly reformatted and forwarded our Robot Jocks script to someone who's in a better position to know how to query a film agent than we are. We also learned the crucial difference between a montage and a series of shots.
Souldancer revisions proceed apace. Two entire sections have had to be rewritten. The editing process hasn't been nearly as straightforward as I'd expected, but I'm appreciating the challenge.
I'm still trudging through Kirsch's Guide, picking up strange nuggets of information as I go. These insights will be shared in good time. Once I'm finished with that book, my only source of knowledge on the publishing industry will be personal experience, so I'm inclined to parcel out such wisdom sparingly.
End transmission.
The second submission of the "Reign of Terror" short story has been made to Three-Lobed Burning Eye. Their web site says I can expect to hear back within 90 days.
Mick has properly reformatted and forwarded our Robot Jocks script to someone who's in a better position to know how to query a film agent than we are. We also learned the crucial difference between a montage and a series of shots.
Souldancer revisions proceed apace. Two entire sections have had to be rewritten. The editing process hasn't been nearly as straightforward as I'd expected, but I'm appreciating the challenge.
I'm still trudging through Kirsch's Guide, picking up strange nuggets of information as I go. These insights will be shared in good time. Once I'm finished with that book, my only source of knowledge on the publishing industry will be personal experience, so I'm inclined to parcel out such wisdom sparingly.
End transmission.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Art and Additional Materials
Visual art seems to enjoy pride of first place among the aesthetic fields. One of the primary reasons for its universal appeal is probably its immediacy. Anyone can get the gist of a drawing or painting after even a cursory glimpse, but extracting the meat of a literary piece takes significantly more time and effort. Artists, therefore, seem to achieve recognition more easily than writers.
If you want a practical example, try finding a comic book publisher who's accepting unsolicited script submissions. Even bigger studios periodically have open calls for new artists, but unless a story is accompanied by finished pencils at least, good luck getting it in the door.
An interesting observation I made during my unsuccessful bid to launch a web comic is that, while many authors (myself included) openly admit that they can barely manage artwork equaling grade school notebook sketches, every artist I've ever spoken to judges his writing to be on par with his art.
Having been rebuffed by pencilers who already had stories to go along with their artwork, and thus no need for me, I resolved to abandon comics for the time being in order to focus on novels--an medium dedicated entirely to the written word...or so I thought, until I came upon a common clause included in many standard book contracts imposing upon the author the obligation of providing additional materials, including original art.
Since, as I stated, I can't draw, the obvious answer was to include no artwork in my book, other than the front and back cover, which are the publisher's problem. However, I soon discovered that the standard contract specifies that the inclusion of additional artwork is at the publisher's sole discretion. If I do get a book deal, the publisher can demand interior art. Now, publishers know very well that there's every chance a particular author can't draw or paint as well as he can write (a rare combination despite what many artists seem to think), so they add a clause stipulating that the author will be forced to pay for the services of a third-party artist (or even the publisher's own art department).
Usually the publisher will just go ahead and farm out the production of additional materials for the novel, including permissions and indexes (or even maps made by actual cartographers) in addition to original art. Then they'll charge a debit to the author's account which, like the advance, is recoupable via royalties.
Long story short, if you're an author with a book deal on the horizon, make sure to renegotiate these generally unfavorable provisions of most standard literary contracts.
If you want a practical example, try finding a comic book publisher who's accepting unsolicited script submissions. Even bigger studios periodically have open calls for new artists, but unless a story is accompanied by finished pencils at least, good luck getting it in the door.
An interesting observation I made during my unsuccessful bid to launch a web comic is that, while many authors (myself included) openly admit that they can barely manage artwork equaling grade school notebook sketches, every artist I've ever spoken to judges his writing to be on par with his art.
Having been rebuffed by pencilers who already had stories to go along with their artwork, and thus no need for me, I resolved to abandon comics for the time being in order to focus on novels--an medium dedicated entirely to the written word...or so I thought, until I came upon a common clause included in many standard book contracts imposing upon the author the obligation of providing additional materials, including original art.
Since, as I stated, I can't draw, the obvious answer was to include no artwork in my book, other than the front and back cover, which are the publisher's problem. However, I soon discovered that the standard contract specifies that the inclusion of additional artwork is at the publisher's sole discretion. If I do get a book deal, the publisher can demand interior art. Now, publishers know very well that there's every chance a particular author can't draw or paint as well as he can write (a rare combination despite what many artists seem to think), so they add a clause stipulating that the author will be forced to pay for the services of a third-party artist (or even the publisher's own art department).
Usually the publisher will just go ahead and farm out the production of additional materials for the novel, including permissions and indexes (or even maps made by actual cartographers) in addition to original art. Then they'll charge a debit to the author's account which, like the advance, is recoupable via royalties.
Long story short, if you're an author with a book deal on the horizon, make sure to renegotiate these generally unfavorable provisions of most standard literary contracts.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Novel Film Adaptations: What's Next
Hollywood has always mined popular books for film ideas. The two most recent novel series turned movie franchises to dominate pop culture have been Harry Potter and Twilight. Long before either movie series reached its climax, speculation about their eventual replacements raged, even among those who hadn't seen Potter or Twilight.
Now, with the finales of both media juggernauts fast approaching, the studio acquisitions offices seem poised to answer the perennial question: what comes next?
The Wrap posted an intriguing list of contenders for Rowling and Meyer's thrones. Included are hip upstarts like The Hunger Games and The Mortal Instruments. Meyer herself is returning with The Host.
Most of these titles hail from the recent crop of contemporary trade fiction. We've heard them thrown around before. Personally, one name does stand out from the pack: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Though a bit longer in the tooth than its fellow contestants, one need only recall The Lord of the Rings trilogy to know how potent the film version of a classic novel can be. Rumors of an Ender's Game film adaptation have been making the rounds for years. Now that Harry Potter and Twilight are bowing out, Ender is due for his time in the limelight.
Now, with the finales of both media juggernauts fast approaching, the studio acquisitions offices seem poised to answer the perennial question: what comes next?
The Wrap posted an intriguing list of contenders for Rowling and Meyer's thrones. Included are hip upstarts like The Hunger Games and The Mortal Instruments. Meyer herself is returning with The Host.
Most of these titles hail from the recent crop of contemporary trade fiction. We've heard them thrown around before. Personally, one name does stand out from the pack: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Though a bit longer in the tooth than its fellow contestants, one need only recall The Lord of the Rings trilogy to know how potent the film version of a classic novel can be. Rumors of an Ender's Game film adaptation have been making the rounds for years. Now that Harry Potter and Twilight are bowing out, Ender is due for his time in the limelight.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Next Stop: Three-Lobed Burning Eye
After meticulous research--okay, I searched Duotrope, I've decided to resubmit my short story to Three-Lobed Burning Eye. To be honest, the Lovecraft reference put them over the top.
In keeping with Nick's experiment, I have stepped down from publications offering pro pay scales to semi-pro. Since my primary goal is to build a portfolio of published short stories, a few cents less per word is no problem.
According to Duotrope, their acceptance rate is about 2 and a half percent (pretty good odds while still having standards). They publish online irregularly over the year and print a trade anthology every other year.
I've got a little editing to do in order to meet their submission guidelines. After that, we wait 90 days and see...
In keeping with Nick's experiment, I have stepped down from publications offering pro pay scales to semi-pro. Since my primary goal is to build a portfolio of published short stories, a few cents less per word is no problem.
According to Duotrope, their acceptance rate is about 2 and a half percent (pretty good odds while still having standards). They publish online irregularly over the year and print a trade anthology every other year.
I've got a little editing to do in order to meet their submission guidelines. After that, we wait 90 days and see...
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The First of Many
I reached an inevitable, yet no less important, milestone in my literary career yesterday. After electronically submitting a short story to Shock Totem slightly over a month ago, I have finally received my first ever rejection letter.
As far as I'm concerned, this response was welcome news, primarily because the magazine responded at all (sometimes they don't). The swiftness of the reply, which was less than half the maximum, was impressive. Even more impressive is the fact that Shock Totem is currently on summer break. So not only did they reply faster than normal, they did it with a diminished editorial staff. All told, I was extremely satisfied with my first rejection experience.
I'm not marking this one as a loss. It's a bronze medal. The story's going back out as soon as I find another magazine with the right submission guidelines. Just four more rejections and I can submit it to The Rejected Quarterly.
As far as I'm concerned, this response was welcome news, primarily because the magazine responded at all (sometimes they don't). The swiftness of the reply, which was less than half the maximum, was impressive. Even more impressive is the fact that Shock Totem is currently on summer break. So not only did they reply faster than normal, they did it with a diminished editorial staff. All told, I was extremely satisfied with my first rejection experience.
I'm not marking this one as a loss. It's a bronze medal. The story's going back out as soon as I find another magazine with the right submission guidelines. Just four more rejections and I can submit it to The Rejected Quarterly.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Literary Contracts: Author Compensation
It's time to cover the fun part of a book contract: the royalty clauses.
The standard author/publisher relationship involves a transfer of rights (by grant or possibly other means) from the former to the latter. The publishing house gets the right to exploit the work in a number of ways, and the writer receives some form of compensation in exchange. The most common form of author compensation is the royalty payment.
The frequency and size of royalties can vary, but every royalty is a payment made to the author of a work derived from a percentage of the book's price. A common practice is for the author to receive 10% of the cover price (or more accurately, the publisher's invoice price) for the first 5000 copies sold, 12% on the next 5000, and 15% for every sale over 10,000 copies.
Now we come to the topic of advances. Contrary to a popular misconception, an advance isn't like a signing bonus. It is instead exactly what the name implies: an advance payment against future royalties. Publishers calculate advances based on projections of initial sales. For example, a publisher might offer an advance on the first 1000 copies sold. At the standard royalty rate of 10% and an invoice price of $20.00, the advance comes out to $2000.
The amount of the advance is important because the publisher doesn't have to start making royalty payments until the advance has been recouped in sales. The way it's done is that the publisher keeps the 10% royalty for every copy until royalties on actual sales exceed the advance amount. Therefore, an advance is more like a lump sum court settlement or lottery payout than a bonus (although you can and should get them in installments).
Although royalty payments technically begin after the advance has been paid back, very few books ever manage sufficient sales to do so. Therefore, the advance is likely the only compensation a writer will receive. The good news is that authors aren't obliged to issue refunds on advances to publishers if their books don't sell.
Alternate methods of compensation do exist. For instance, a publisher might offer a writer a percentage of net retail sales. However, as we all know, "...the net is fantasy." (1:18)
The standard author/publisher relationship involves a transfer of rights (by grant or possibly other means) from the former to the latter. The publishing house gets the right to exploit the work in a number of ways, and the writer receives some form of compensation in exchange. The most common form of author compensation is the royalty payment.
The frequency and size of royalties can vary, but every royalty is a payment made to the author of a work derived from a percentage of the book's price. A common practice is for the author to receive 10% of the cover price (or more accurately, the publisher's invoice price) for the first 5000 copies sold, 12% on the next 5000, and 15% for every sale over 10,000 copies.
Now we come to the topic of advances. Contrary to a popular misconception, an advance isn't like a signing bonus. It is instead exactly what the name implies: an advance payment against future royalties. Publishers calculate advances based on projections of initial sales. For example, a publisher might offer an advance on the first 1000 copies sold. At the standard royalty rate of 10% and an invoice price of $20.00, the advance comes out to $2000.
The amount of the advance is important because the publisher doesn't have to start making royalty payments until the advance has been recouped in sales. The way it's done is that the publisher keeps the 10% royalty for every copy until royalties on actual sales exceed the advance amount. Therefore, an advance is more like a lump sum court settlement or lottery payout than a bonus (although you can and should get them in installments).
Although royalty payments technically begin after the advance has been paid back, very few books ever manage sufficient sales to do so. Therefore, the advance is likely the only compensation a writer will receive. The good news is that authors aren't obliged to issue refunds on advances to publishers if their books don't sell.
Alternate methods of compensation do exist. For instance, a publisher might offer a writer a percentage of net retail sales. However, as we all know, "...the net is fantasy." (1:18)
Friday, June 17, 2011
First Playtest
Thanks to everyone who helped test the first version of my Soul Saga RPG. I am diligently implementing most of the suggestions I received, including streamlining combat while retaining the damage system's sense of realism.
In addition to revisions, I'll also be adding myriad game elements, including alternate "magic" systems, Worked items, new races, and more character traits. There will also be plenty of flavor text to flesh out the setting.
Thanks again for the excellent feedback.
In addition to revisions, I'll also be adding myriad game elements, including alternate "magic" systems, Worked items, new races, and more character traits. There will also be plenty of flavor text to flesh out the setting.
Thanks again for the excellent feedback.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Sean Bean Involved in Bar Fight
That's not actually true. The fight happened outside a bar.
Despite getting cut with broken glass, the star of A Game of Thrones and The Fellowship of the Ring declined medical attention and had another drink.
What I want to know is, how's the other guy?
Despite getting cut with broken glass, the star of A Game of Thrones and The Fellowship of the Ring declined medical attention and had another drink.
What I want to know is, how's the other guy?
Monday, June 13, 2011
Souldancer Progress Report 2
Last week I'd reached page 196 in my revisions, at which point I hit a roadblock. After days of deliberation, I finally decided to cut the entire original scene and rewrite those pages from scratch. These rewrites took me back to the beginning of chapter 11.
Today I worked back up to page 196. I'm pretty satisfied with the changes. A couple of plot holes and deus ex machina scenes have been corrected, and the new material provides a smoother transition to later developments.
Today I worked back up to page 196. I'm pretty satisfied with the changes. A couple of plot holes and deus ex machina scenes have been corrected, and the new material provides a smoother transition to later developments.
Friday, June 10, 2011
A Game of a Game of Thrones
I just tried out the living card game based on A Game of Thrones. Most of you probably know the difference between a CCG like Magic: The Gathering and and LCG like this one, but for the record, it means you don't have to obsessively buy cards to fuel your habit. Four full decks are provided right out of the box, allowing play to begin immediately.
I'd played the Legend of the Five Rings LCG before giving Fantasy Flight's A Game of Thrones a spin, and they're pretty similar in terms of mechanics. However, since I like the IPs associated with the latter more, the Game of Thrones LCG was a bit more fun.
I'd played the Legend of the Five Rings LCG before giving Fantasy Flight's A Game of Thrones a spin, and they're pretty similar in terms of mechanics. However, since I like the IPs associated with the latter more, the Game of Thrones LCG was a bit more fun.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Your Book Is not Your Khakis
As Tyler Durden so eloquently pointed out, few of us will ever achieve movie star, rock god, or millionaire status, despite TV's claims to the contrary. Not only did Fight Club acquaint us with this paradox of contemporary society, it did so for the right reasons. Instead of preaching a defeatist apathy, Durden and the other members of Project Mayhem celebrated the intrinsic value of human talent, though admittedly to an extreme degree.
The point remains that purely utilitarian, materialistic ends shouldn't motivate the pursuit of one's passion. That kind of value system is what's gotten Hollywood mired in the stagnant depths of sequel and reboot obsession.
Not that an artist doesn't deserve just compensation for the years of effort it can take to create a finished work. The simple fact is that it's pretty amazing when anyone produces a sculpture, writes a poem, or scripts a play, whether or not the achievement gets major recognition.
Some of the best advice I've heard on the use of talent was given by Bill Flanagan to Sinead O'Connor when her career was on the rocks. When she lamented that she still had a lot of songs left in her, he told her to write them anyway, even if she just left them unrecorded in a shoebox.
I've often heard professional authors caution amateurs to curb their dreams of the elusive six-figure advance and the highly competitive bestseller list. Art is not a field one enters for the money.
Everyone has a skill in which heredity and environment have predisposed them to excel. Allowing that gift to atrophy is a monumental waste. Plus, I hold to Tolkien's concept of sub-creation: that human beings are privileged above any other animal to be made collaborators in the ongoing beautification and perfection of nature. Engaging our powers as authors; be it as painters, writers, filmmakers, or parents, is the way in which we most closely approach the activity of the Author.
The point remains that purely utilitarian, materialistic ends shouldn't motivate the pursuit of one's passion. That kind of value system is what's gotten Hollywood mired in the stagnant depths of sequel and reboot obsession.
Not that an artist doesn't deserve just compensation for the years of effort it can take to create a finished work. The simple fact is that it's pretty amazing when anyone produces a sculpture, writes a poem, or scripts a play, whether or not the achievement gets major recognition.
Some of the best advice I've heard on the use of talent was given by Bill Flanagan to Sinead O'Connor when her career was on the rocks. When she lamented that she still had a lot of songs left in her, he told her to write them anyway, even if she just left them unrecorded in a shoebox.
I've often heard professional authors caution amateurs to curb their dreams of the elusive six-figure advance and the highly competitive bestseller list. Art is not a field one enters for the money.
Everyone has a skill in which heredity and environment have predisposed them to excel. Allowing that gift to atrophy is a monumental waste. Plus, I hold to Tolkien's concept of sub-creation: that human beings are privileged above any other animal to be made collaborators in the ongoing beautification and perfection of nature. Engaging our powers as authors; be it as painters, writers, filmmakers, or parents, is the way in which we most closely approach the activity of the Author.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Literary Contracts
I've been reading Kirsch's Guide to the Book Contract in preparation for the hypothetical day when a publisher offers me a book deal. The horror stories of authors who entered into Faustian bargains by signing the publisher's first offer are manifold. The tragic tale of Jerry Siegel and Joel Shuster is the classic example.
The sage advice to always read and negotiate a book contract has been repeated from many quarters, but I didn't realize how important understanding the terms of any legal agreement is until I actually read a sample contract. Publishers have had a couple of centuries to refine their dealings with authors, whereas every new author is a private individual who's starting from scratch. As a result, most boilerplate literary contracts heavily favor the publisher.
A few deal points I've learned to watch out for are language that makes broad (or even total) transfers of rights from the author to the publisher--even rights that the publishing house can't exploit directly such as film, TV, and merchandising. Other points of contention include clauses that grant the publisher total control over the form, content, and exploitation of the work without author approval (or even involvement). Unfortunately, it seems to require a lot of clout on the author's part before a publisher will relinquish this kind of control. Sometimes arrangements like this can be good, since the publisher likely knows a lot more about marketing than the author does. However, problems can arise if author and publisher have differing ideas about licensing IPs from the book to a flamethrower manufacturer.
The stuff that really requires the author's careful attention are the warranties and indemnities. This section lays out the writer's duties toward the publisher, including guaranteeing that nothing in the book will get the publisher sued. Indemnity clauses often stipulate that if someone does bring a claim, the author has to pay the legal fees. There are other things that a careless author might be forced to pay for under a standard contract, including late revisions, artwork, additional research, proofs, etc. These clauses seem to be included as incentives for the author to do his job on time.
Finally, off-the-rack book contracts feature a whole slew of escape clauses and other conditions under which the publisher can back out of the deal. If these clauses are invoked, the author won't get an advance, or worse--will have to refund advances already paid.
Luckily, publishing is one industry in which negotiating isn't only acceptable, it's expected. There are few better ways to prove that you're an amateur than immediately signing your first contract un-negotiated. Read the document. Don't be afraid to ask questions, and don't hesitate to haggle for what you want. Chances are you won't get every deal point, but life is compromise.
The sage advice to always read and negotiate a book contract has been repeated from many quarters, but I didn't realize how important understanding the terms of any legal agreement is until I actually read a sample contract. Publishers have had a couple of centuries to refine their dealings with authors, whereas every new author is a private individual who's starting from scratch. As a result, most boilerplate literary contracts heavily favor the publisher.
A few deal points I've learned to watch out for are language that makes broad (or even total) transfers of rights from the author to the publisher--even rights that the publishing house can't exploit directly such as film, TV, and merchandising. Other points of contention include clauses that grant the publisher total control over the form, content, and exploitation of the work without author approval (or even involvement). Unfortunately, it seems to require a lot of clout on the author's part before a publisher will relinquish this kind of control. Sometimes arrangements like this can be good, since the publisher likely knows a lot more about marketing than the author does. However, problems can arise if author and publisher have differing ideas about licensing IPs from the book to a flamethrower manufacturer.
The stuff that really requires the author's careful attention are the warranties and indemnities. This section lays out the writer's duties toward the publisher, including guaranteeing that nothing in the book will get the publisher sued. Indemnity clauses often stipulate that if someone does bring a claim, the author has to pay the legal fees. There are other things that a careless author might be forced to pay for under a standard contract, including late revisions, artwork, additional research, proofs, etc. These clauses seem to be included as incentives for the author to do his job on time.
Finally, off-the-rack book contracts feature a whole slew of escape clauses and other conditions under which the publisher can back out of the deal. If these clauses are invoked, the author won't get an advance, or worse--will have to refund advances already paid.
Luckily, publishing is one industry in which negotiating isn't only acceptable, it's expected. There are few better ways to prove that you're an amateur than immediately signing your first contract un-negotiated. Read the document. Don't be afraid to ask questions, and don't hesitate to haggle for what you want. Chances are you won't get every deal point, but life is compromise.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Game Design
I've taken the time to do some design work on the tentative Soul Saga RPG that I've been toying with. Having tried my hand at home-brewed rules and even overhauls of entire game engines, creating an entirely new system is still posing quite a challenge.
My first major decision has been settling on the basic dice engine, which will be percentile-based. Expressing game mechanics as percentages is clean and straightforward and makes adapting real-world statistics easier.
Speaking of real statistics, did you know that shooting accuracy figures for police and military forces are extremely hard to find? The best I could come up with was an often-repeated but unsubstantiated forty percent hit figure for police shootouts within ten to twenty feet. Slightly better sourced were statistics claiming ten percent average accuracy for trained soldiers at three hundred meters with the M16A2 rifle and ninety percent accuracy for snipers with M24s at six hundred meters.
The search for realistic firearms data led me to reexamine another aspect of most RPGs that I've always found woefully inadequate: damage rules. The worst offenders are systems that use "hit points" to track characters' health status. The manifold distortions involved in reducing a person's physical well-being to a number are disconcerting enough, but the idea of someone with one hundred HP being whittled down to fifty or ten or even one and still going about his business normally is against all logic.
Of course, what these game terms are supposed to represent are injuries like ballistic trauma, blast injuries, and blunt trauma. While each of these conditions can vary widely in severity, the bleeding likely entailed by all of them means that traumatic injury isn't a one-off proposition. Training and adrenaline might keep you on your feet after sustaining ten points of "piercing damage" (aka ballistic penetrating trauma), but the external and internal hemorrhaging will pose increasingly serious problems over the next few minutes and hours.
Most RPGs only address the effects of cumulative injuries. The oversight I want to correct is their omission of the progressive aspects of trauma.
Some will object that portraying damage more realistically will cramp the players' style by making everyone conflict-averse. I counter that the lethality of combat is offset by the implementation of more realistic marksmanship and melee rules. The fact is that even trained professionals miss most of the time, and battles tend to be resolved when the enemy retreats, surrenders, or is incapacitated rather than massacred.
Besides, sound logistics and advance planning wins more battles than sheer force. So the upshot is that more realistic combat will discourage hack and slash antics and encourage players to fight smarter.
My first major decision has been settling on the basic dice engine, which will be percentile-based. Expressing game mechanics as percentages is clean and straightforward and makes adapting real-world statistics easier.
Speaking of real statistics, did you know that shooting accuracy figures for police and military forces are extremely hard to find? The best I could come up with was an often-repeated but unsubstantiated forty percent hit figure for police shootouts within ten to twenty feet. Slightly better sourced were statistics claiming ten percent average accuracy for trained soldiers at three hundred meters with the M16A2 rifle and ninety percent accuracy for snipers with M24s at six hundred meters.
The search for realistic firearms data led me to reexamine another aspect of most RPGs that I've always found woefully inadequate: damage rules. The worst offenders are systems that use "hit points" to track characters' health status. The manifold distortions involved in reducing a person's physical well-being to a number are disconcerting enough, but the idea of someone with one hundred HP being whittled down to fifty or ten or even one and still going about his business normally is against all logic.
Of course, what these game terms are supposed to represent are injuries like ballistic trauma, blast injuries, and blunt trauma. While each of these conditions can vary widely in severity, the bleeding likely entailed by all of them means that traumatic injury isn't a one-off proposition. Training and adrenaline might keep you on your feet after sustaining ten points of "piercing damage" (aka ballistic penetrating trauma), but the external and internal hemorrhaging will pose increasingly serious problems over the next few minutes and hours.
Most RPGs only address the effects of cumulative injuries. The oversight I want to correct is their omission of the progressive aspects of trauma.
Some will object that portraying damage more realistically will cramp the players' style by making everyone conflict-averse. I counter that the lethality of combat is offset by the implementation of more realistic marksmanship and melee rules. The fact is that even trained professionals miss most of the time, and battles tend to be resolved when the enemy retreats, surrenders, or is incapacitated rather than massacred.
Besides, sound logistics and advance planning wins more battles than sheer force. So the upshot is that more realistic combat will discourage hack and slash antics and encourage players to fight smarter.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Throw a Dart
In light of Kaze's response to my post on genre, I've been examining various subtypes of sci-fi and fantasy to identify the best fit for Nethereal. This process has proven more difficult than I'd expected. However, I think I can narrow it down.
Kaze's favored answer was sword and planet. I agree that this science fantasy subgenre is a good fit, or at least a major influence. The only catch is that really only one character in the "mundane" world uses blades as his weapon of choice. Otherwise, firearms are very prevalent. Also, straight-out magic is widely accepted as real. However, one could invoke Arthur C. Clarke's rule about any sufficiently advanced technology being de facto magic since Workings are based on well-established natural laws that essentially make them another fundamental physical force like gravity, electromagnetism, etc.
The Guild is another aspect of the setting that argues both for and against a clear sword and planet definition. While they do possess some antedated trappings, the Brotherhood's outlook is basically skeptical, rationalist, and pragmatic.
I decided to take a step back and consider the classification of my novel from the other end of the spectrum. Exploring fantasy subgenres, I found a few that seem to inform my story. Magic realism seems to dominate, but there are traces of lost world and even imaginary voyage fiction.
Hell, my stated intention for writing the book was as an experiment in philosophical fiction. The strong vein of paranormal horror isn't to be dismissed, either.
It seems that what we've got here is a story that's straddling the line between genres, or in this case several lines--like that geographic point where the corners of four states meet. Or, to put it back in terms of fiction, it's reminiscent of Star Wars--not to compare myself with the series' early genius or later dissolution.
I think that the real difficulty here is the inherently subjective nature of genre labels. All of the definitions above presuppose a rationalist, decidedly Western worldview. A New Yorker's paranormal horror could be realism in Hong Kong. Unfortunately, effective marketing relies on such transitory labels. So I'll have to stick with sword and planet/magical realism used to frame a philosophical discourse.
Kaze's favored answer was sword and planet. I agree that this science fantasy subgenre is a good fit, or at least a major influence. The only catch is that really only one character in the "mundane" world uses blades as his weapon of choice. Otherwise, firearms are very prevalent. Also, straight-out magic is widely accepted as real. However, one could invoke Arthur C. Clarke's rule about any sufficiently advanced technology being de facto magic since Workings are based on well-established natural laws that essentially make them another fundamental physical force like gravity, electromagnetism, etc.
The Guild is another aspect of the setting that argues both for and against a clear sword and planet definition. While they do possess some antedated trappings, the Brotherhood's outlook is basically skeptical, rationalist, and pragmatic.
I decided to take a step back and consider the classification of my novel from the other end of the spectrum. Exploring fantasy subgenres, I found a few that seem to inform my story. Magic realism seems to dominate, but there are traces of lost world and even imaginary voyage fiction.
Hell, my stated intention for writing the book was as an experiment in philosophical fiction. The strong vein of paranormal horror isn't to be dismissed, either.
It seems that what we've got here is a story that's straddling the line between genres, or in this case several lines--like that geographic point where the corners of four states meet. Or, to put it back in terms of fiction, it's reminiscent of Star Wars--not to compare myself with the series' early genius or later dissolution.
I think that the real difficulty here is the inherently subjective nature of genre labels. All of the definitions above presuppose a rationalist, decidedly Western worldview. A New Yorker's paranormal horror could be realism in Hong Kong. Unfortunately, effective marketing relies on such transitory labels. So I'll have to stick with sword and planet/magical realism used to frame a philosophical discourse.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Page Count
Currently on chapter 10, page 158 of Souldancer version 3 revisions. 1280 pages to go, although that figure's been shortened by about twenty pages already as I've streamlined the text. So, I'm whittling away at this monster from both ends.
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Importance of Genre Matching
Since many of this site's readers have also kindly offered to review my manuscript, I'd like to explain why your contributions are so vital. For novels, proofreading isn't just about checking for spelling and grammatical errors. The quality of the story and writing style are equally important. In addition to these elements, my primary concern in regard to marketing the manuscript is identification of the book's genre.
Forgive me if this sounds too simple. If you happen to be one of the gracious amateur editors who've read the review copy, please tell me what category you think the story falls under. I'm too close to the project to see the forest for the trees.
Before anyone counsels me on the artificiality of labels, there are very specific reasons why accurately categorizing a book is crucial to its success. Most of them have to do with how publishers pick which manuscripts they buy. Almost all publishers compile a yearly list of books they want to print. These can be specific titles or just kinds of books. Once assembled, the list sets the company's budget for acquisitions, printing, and advertising. Think of it as the publisher's wish list.
Most publishers want to establish a reputation for promoting a certain genre. This specialization helps customers to identify them. Therefore, a publisher's list will be heavily weighted toward their specialized genre.
The length of the list varies between publishers, but a hundred books is a decent hypothetical figure. Of those hundred, let's say that seventy-five slots on the list are reserved for appropriate genre titles. Of the seventy-five, some places are filled in advance by titles in existing series and new books from established authors. The remaining twenty-five slots could be allotted to marginal projects--books that are less likely to make money than the publisher's standard fare. Marginal projects could be poetry anthologies, technical materials, etc. Unfortunately for me, manuscripts from first-time authors are always considered marginal projects. There's just no guarantee of profitability. This means that the fewest slots on the list are available to new authors.
A first-time author should make every effort to maximize the appeal of his book to a potential publisher. An indispensable part of marketing a manuscript is researching agents and publishers to find buyers who specialize in your book's genre. The more your book resembles a publisher's established titles, the better the chances of them buying your manuscript.
On the downside, producing something truly original can be the kiss of death for a first-time novelist. Publishers can't assign a market value to a book that's so unlike anything else that there's no economic frame of reference for it. Offbeat material is far more likely to be accepted after the author has gained industry clout through success on more mainstream projects.
So, if you've read my book and know of any published work that's like it, please let me know.
Forgive me if this sounds too simple. If you happen to be one of the gracious amateur editors who've read the review copy, please tell me what category you think the story falls under. I'm too close to the project to see the forest for the trees.
Before anyone counsels me on the artificiality of labels, there are very specific reasons why accurately categorizing a book is crucial to its success. Most of them have to do with how publishers pick which manuscripts they buy. Almost all publishers compile a yearly list of books they want to print. These can be specific titles or just kinds of books. Once assembled, the list sets the company's budget for acquisitions, printing, and advertising. Think of it as the publisher's wish list.
Most publishers want to establish a reputation for promoting a certain genre. This specialization helps customers to identify them. Therefore, a publisher's list will be heavily weighted toward their specialized genre.
The length of the list varies between publishers, but a hundred books is a decent hypothetical figure. Of those hundred, let's say that seventy-five slots on the list are reserved for appropriate genre titles. Of the seventy-five, some places are filled in advance by titles in existing series and new books from established authors. The remaining twenty-five slots could be allotted to marginal projects--books that are less likely to make money than the publisher's standard fare. Marginal projects could be poetry anthologies, technical materials, etc. Unfortunately for me, manuscripts from first-time authors are always considered marginal projects. There's just no guarantee of profitability. This means that the fewest slots on the list are available to new authors.
A first-time author should make every effort to maximize the appeal of his book to a potential publisher. An indispensable part of marketing a manuscript is researching agents and publishers to find buyers who specialize in your book's genre. The more your book resembles a publisher's established titles, the better the chances of them buying your manuscript.
On the downside, producing something truly original can be the kiss of death for a first-time novelist. Publishers can't assign a market value to a book that's so unlike anything else that there's no economic frame of reference for it. Offbeat material is far more likely to be accepted after the author has gained industry clout through success on more mainstream projects.
So, if you've read my book and know of any published work that's like it, please let me know.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Vin Diesel Working for Scale in Third Riddick Installment
For the second week in a row, I have movie news that should interest Mick. Honestly, I didn't even know that a third movie in the Chronicles of Riddick franchise was in production until Total Film reported this story on the star's pay cut.
It seems that in order to avoid a repeat of the furor over the second movie's PG-13 rating, director David Twohy has promised to make the third film a solid R. For some reason, doing so means that Vin Diesel must work for scale.
Regarding the movie itself, it's planned to begin shooting this summer and will feature a reduction in scope from its predecessor's epic scale to focus on more traditional horror elements.
It seems that in order to avoid a repeat of the furor over the second movie's PG-13 rating, director David Twohy has promised to make the third film a solid R. For some reason, doing so means that Vin Diesel must work for scale.
Regarding the movie itself, it's planned to begin shooting this summer and will feature a reduction in scope from its predecessor's epic scale to focus on more traditional horror elements.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Souldancer 3.0
Having gotten the manuscript for Nethereal in satisfactory form, I've started work on a new revision of the old version of Souldancer. Reading the second (chronological) book now, I can't believe I ever deemed it ready for print.
I don't know whether it was grad school, the number of books I've read between "finishing" SD v2 and now, or both; but my awareness of flaws in the execution of version two is now glaring. My main issue was having too many descriptive clauses modifying any one object. The book as it stands reads as if I couldn't decide between descriptors and chose to include them all. The result was very cluttered, as you can imagine.
Presently, I'm going back through Souldancer, intent on giving it a total overhaul. The text will be fully streamlined and revised while being brought up to spec with Nethereal. That means shoring up continuity between the two books, harmonizing established nomenclature, and almost certainly cutting a few scenes that no longer fit the narrative.
To those who might object to an abridged version, consider that rendering both manuscripts in double-spaced, twelve point text, Nethereal tops out at a respectable 780 pages, while Souldancer currently bursts its binding at 1340. Simply reining in my exposition should help make the page count more manageable.
In case you're wondering why I'm going to the trouble of revisiting a five year-old manuscript that took me two years to write in the first place, not including original revisions, the answer is that there's nothing else I'd rather do. The reason I started with the second book in the cycle is because I feel very strongly that Souldancer is the heart of the saga; the philosophical and emotional axis around which the whole thing turns.
Don't get me wrong. Nethereal isn't a throwaway piece at all. I wouldn't market a story I didn't believe in. I purposefully wrote the tale to be fully self-contained if needed. However, the fact remains that the first novel's primary job is to rack up the pins so the larger game can commence.
Having gotten the introductory story on paper (rather, on file via word processor) has greatly aided my improvement of Souldancer, providing the firm foundation lacking during my first go-round. Using Nethereal as a reference point, I have no doubt that SD v3 will proceed more naturally; the two texts forming a complementary and fully coherent narrative.
I'm not turning the second book into a clone of the first, either. The scope of Souldancer is still far broader, numerous new characters are introduced, and the stakes are raised compared to the conflict that drove the cast of Nethereal. How can a threat of already universal scale be surpassed?
Rest assured, I've got it covered.
I don't know whether it was grad school, the number of books I've read between "finishing" SD v2 and now, or both; but my awareness of flaws in the execution of version two is now glaring. My main issue was having too many descriptive clauses modifying any one object. The book as it stands reads as if I couldn't decide between descriptors and chose to include them all. The result was very cluttered, as you can imagine.
Presently, I'm going back through Souldancer, intent on giving it a total overhaul. The text will be fully streamlined and revised while being brought up to spec with Nethereal. That means shoring up continuity between the two books, harmonizing established nomenclature, and almost certainly cutting a few scenes that no longer fit the narrative.
To those who might object to an abridged version, consider that rendering both manuscripts in double-spaced, twelve point text, Nethereal tops out at a respectable 780 pages, while Souldancer currently bursts its binding at 1340. Simply reining in my exposition should help make the page count more manageable.
In case you're wondering why I'm going to the trouble of revisiting a five year-old manuscript that took me two years to write in the first place, not including original revisions, the answer is that there's nothing else I'd rather do. The reason I started with the second book in the cycle is because I feel very strongly that Souldancer is the heart of the saga; the philosophical and emotional axis around which the whole thing turns.
Don't get me wrong. Nethereal isn't a throwaway piece at all. I wouldn't market a story I didn't believe in. I purposefully wrote the tale to be fully self-contained if needed. However, the fact remains that the first novel's primary job is to rack up the pins so the larger game can commence.
Having gotten the introductory story on paper (rather, on file via word processor) has greatly aided my improvement of Souldancer, providing the firm foundation lacking during my first go-round. Using Nethereal as a reference point, I have no doubt that SD v3 will proceed more naturally; the two texts forming a complementary and fully coherent narrative.
I'm not turning the second book into a clone of the first, either. The scope of Souldancer is still far broader, numerous new characters are introduced, and the stakes are raised compared to the conflict that drove the cast of Nethereal. How can a threat of already universal scale be surpassed?
Rest assured, I've got it covered.
Friday, May 20, 2011
The Passion of St. Bill
As far as movie adaptations of his books go, William Gibson ranks close behind Stephen King on the disappointment scale. New Rose Hotel was good, if not very accessible. There were two X-Files episodes: one decent, the other...wanting. Then you have the tragic rejection of his script for Alien III, especially considering what we got instead. What's to be said when your best-known film is Johnny Mnemonic?
Now, after a long hiatus, news of a new film project based on a William Gibson book has surfaced--and not just any book; but the seminal story that is perhaps the jewel in the sci-fi author's crown. Word from the Cannes Film Festival is that Gibson's breakthrough novel Neuromancer has been picked up for production. Some healthy skepticism is natural at this point, but the few reported details seem to hint at light on the horizon.
The first promising sign is that Vincenzo Natali is attached to direct. Considering his work on Cube, it's hard to imagine someone better qualified to helm this project. Also intriguing is the fact that Tokyo, Istanbul, and London; all of which are either visited or mentioned in the novel, have been cited as shooting locations.
If anyone is holding his breath over the outcome of this project, it isn't Gibson. The iconic author responded to the news via his Twitter account, advising fans to quit worrying about Neuromancer in favor of preparing for the impending eschaton.
Now, after a long hiatus, news of a new film project based on a William Gibson book has surfaced--and not just any book; but the seminal story that is perhaps the jewel in the sci-fi author's crown. Word from the Cannes Film Festival is that Gibson's breakthrough novel Neuromancer has been picked up for production. Some healthy skepticism is natural at this point, but the few reported details seem to hint at light on the horizon.
The first promising sign is that Vincenzo Natali is attached to direct. Considering his work on Cube, it's hard to imagine someone better qualified to helm this project. Also intriguing is the fact that Tokyo, Istanbul, and London; all of which are either visited or mentioned in the novel, have been cited as shooting locations.
If anyone is holding his breath over the outcome of this project, it isn't Gibson. The iconic author responded to the news via his Twitter account, advising fans to quit worrying about Neuromancer in favor of preparing for the impending eschaton.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Why Tell a Story?
Tolkien always said that stories should be told for their own sake; not as tracts written to advance the author's personal ethos. However, though fantasy is primarily a means of escapism, it can, in a secondary way, reveal something to the reader about the real world and himself.
The mechanics of this revelatory process are best illustrated by an observation that's often made about Star Trek. What Gene Roddenberry really had in mind for all those actors with plastic spoons stapled to their heads wasn't to make them aliens, but representatives of different aspects of human nature. The fantastical sci-fi context was a sub-creation that allowed the audience to suspend our disbelief so we could enjoy an entertaining story and hopefully learn something at the same time.
That being said, truly distinct fantasy worlds are extremely rare, if they exist at all. The reason is simple: every author lives in the real world and must draw upon it as a primary source. The result is that every fantasy and sci-fi setting contains elements of our primary world that are juxtaposed, exaggerated, or tweaked until a new sub-creation emerges.
The sub-creation process admits of varying degrees. At the near end you have something like urban fiction, wherein fantastic events take place in a near-photo realistic version of our world that is only different in that fantastic events take place there. Hellblazer form DC/Vertigo is the best example of this setting I can think of. At the far end we find cosmologies so bizarre that they bear hardly any resemblance to the known world. Some of the alien worlds imagined by H. P. Lovecraft fit this bill. Occupying the middle rung of the fantasy world continuum are settings that fundamentally resemble the actual past. Robert E. Howard's Conan cycle takes the literal approach, placing the barbarian king's adventures in a forgotten past age. Most mainstream fantasy settings simply approximate an idealized version of the middle ages. Examples are too numerous to name.
Whatever the degree of departure from reality, the author's primary focus should be to fashion a sub-creation different enough from the primary world to make the reader leave his mundane concerns behind while not straying so far as to disable suspension of disbelief. This delicate balance can be upset in the opposite way, whereby a supposed fantasy world contains so many allusions to primary world concepts, institutions, and historical events as to be jarring to the reader.
An author's primary weapon against these dangers is a solid foundation of thorough research. "Write what you know" has never been so apt. Borrowing popularly-known iconography and historical memes for a dash of verisimilitude is all well and good, but a writer should take care before uncritically swallowing fragments of the popular zeitgeist. The glut of pseudo-Arthurian tropes drawn from Bugs Bunny rather than Malory or White can get tedious; second only to the ubiquitous old black legend chestnut of the highly-organized, officially-sponsored zealots who go about strangling suspected demoniacs and generally ramming their superstitions down simple folks' throats. (Constructive advice for medieval fantasy authors: please consult histories on the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition that weren't written as colonialist propaganda).
In conclusion, fantasy as a storytelling device works by rearranging the real world until the audience forgets where they are, allowing the author to weave a tale that primarily entertains while granting a fresh perspective on the human condition.
The mechanics of this revelatory process are best illustrated by an observation that's often made about Star Trek. What Gene Roddenberry really had in mind for all those actors with plastic spoons stapled to their heads wasn't to make them aliens, but representatives of different aspects of human nature. The fantastical sci-fi context was a sub-creation that allowed the audience to suspend our disbelief so we could enjoy an entertaining story and hopefully learn something at the same time.
That being said, truly distinct fantasy worlds are extremely rare, if they exist at all. The reason is simple: every author lives in the real world and must draw upon it as a primary source. The result is that every fantasy and sci-fi setting contains elements of our primary world that are juxtaposed, exaggerated, or tweaked until a new sub-creation emerges.
The sub-creation process admits of varying degrees. At the near end you have something like urban fiction, wherein fantastic events take place in a near-photo realistic version of our world that is only different in that fantastic events take place there. Hellblazer form DC/Vertigo is the best example of this setting I can think of. At the far end we find cosmologies so bizarre that they bear hardly any resemblance to the known world. Some of the alien worlds imagined by H. P. Lovecraft fit this bill. Occupying the middle rung of the fantasy world continuum are settings that fundamentally resemble the actual past. Robert E. Howard's Conan cycle takes the literal approach, placing the barbarian king's adventures in a forgotten past age. Most mainstream fantasy settings simply approximate an idealized version of the middle ages. Examples are too numerous to name.
Whatever the degree of departure from reality, the author's primary focus should be to fashion a sub-creation different enough from the primary world to make the reader leave his mundane concerns behind while not straying so far as to disable suspension of disbelief. This delicate balance can be upset in the opposite way, whereby a supposed fantasy world contains so many allusions to primary world concepts, institutions, and historical events as to be jarring to the reader.
An author's primary weapon against these dangers is a solid foundation of thorough research. "Write what you know" has never been so apt. Borrowing popularly-known iconography and historical memes for a dash of verisimilitude is all well and good, but a writer should take care before uncritically swallowing fragments of the popular zeitgeist. The glut of pseudo-Arthurian tropes drawn from Bugs Bunny rather than Malory or White can get tedious; second only to the ubiquitous old black legend chestnut of the highly-organized, officially-sponsored zealots who go about strangling suspected demoniacs and generally ramming their superstitions down simple folks' throats. (Constructive advice for medieval fantasy authors: please consult histories on the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition that weren't written as colonialist propaganda).
In conclusion, fantasy as a storytelling device works by rearranging the real world until the audience forgets where they are, allowing the author to weave a tale that primarily entertains while granting a fresh perspective on the human condition.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Inside Publishing
Desiring to get published myself, I've decided to do some research on the business side of the industry. Historically, writers have tended to perceive their relationship with publishers as an us vs. them proposition. This perception is partially true. Writers want to be paid the best royalty possible, and publishers want to keep overhead as low as possible.
The uniting factor between both sides is, ideally, a love of literature. When searching for someone to publish his manuscript, an author should seek out a publishing house that is aware of its station as a keeper of and influence on culture. Publishing is not a very profitable business. Projected margins can be as low as four percent for a successful publisher. Therefore, if your publishing house isn't in it for the love of the game, seriously reconsider doing business with them.
The same principle holds true for writers. It's a bit redundant to say, but technology has greatly transformed the business world in the last few years. Ebook sales, though still only around ten percent of the market, have doubled each year since hitting the mainstream. Add to that figure the fact that overall readership is steadily shrinking, and print media is apt to become even less profitable and more competitive than ever before. The short fiction magazine market has essentially become a field of authors writing for and reading each other. Books could potentially go the same way.
The upshot is, if you're a professional fiction writer, keep your day job.
The uniting factor between both sides is, ideally, a love of literature. When searching for someone to publish his manuscript, an author should seek out a publishing house that is aware of its station as a keeper of and influence on culture. Publishing is not a very profitable business. Projected margins can be as low as four percent for a successful publisher. Therefore, if your publishing house isn't in it for the love of the game, seriously reconsider doing business with them.
The same principle holds true for writers. It's a bit redundant to say, but technology has greatly transformed the business world in the last few years. Ebook sales, though still only around ten percent of the market, have doubled each year since hitting the mainstream. Add to that figure the fact that overall readership is steadily shrinking, and print media is apt to become even less profitable and more competitive than ever before. The short fiction magazine market has essentially become a field of authors writing for and reading each other. Books could potentially go the same way.
The upshot is, if you're a professional fiction writer, keep your day job.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Nethereal
Ten years in development
Five months in the writing
three drafts
780 pages
227,000 words
The final manuscript of my sci-fi/fantasy novel Netheral is finished.
Thanks to all who continue to offer their support.
Nick Enlowe
JJ Sauram
Josh E
Ben
Jeff
Kris
Lee
Mick
Paul
Ian
Wes
Sid
AMDG
Five months in the writing
three drafts
780 pages
227,000 words
The final manuscript of my sci-fi/fantasy novel Netheral is finished.
Thanks to all who continue to offer their support.
Nick Enlowe
JJ Sauram
Josh E
Ben
Jeff
Kris
Lee
Mick
Paul
Ian
Wes
Sid
AMDG
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
David Lynch
As an aspiring screenwriter, I've made a point of following the work of filmmakers who've mastered their craft. One of the directors I most like to keep an eye on is David Lynch. Sure, a lot of his stuff is weird for the sake of weird, but he's undeniably good at characterization.
I'd actually avoided Twin Peaks, even though it's probably what the mainstream knows him best for. I finally set aside some time to watch it and was surprised at how accessible it is.
For your enjoyment, here is my favorite parody of any thing of all time.
http://www.kylemaclachlan.com/viewer.php?id=4
I'd actually avoided Twin Peaks, even though it's probably what the mainstream knows him best for. I finally set aside some time to watch it and was surprised at how accessible it is.
For your enjoyment, here is my favorite parody of any thing of all time.
http://www.kylemaclachlan.com/viewer.php?id=4
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Manuscript Preparation Addendum
In light of a few oversights that were kindly pointed out to me regarding my first post on manuscript drafting and formatting, I present the following clarifications.
First, a disclaimer I should have included before: everything I post on this site, unless accompanied by a citation of the original source, is a product of my preference and limited experience. Since I haven't actually published anything yet, please consult other, more experienced authorities before applying any of my writing advice to your own work.
The specific point I'd like to address is my omission of the ironclad rule stating that one should always check a publication's in-house submission guidelines before submitting a manuscript. The publisher's formatting preferences automatically trump anything I suggest.
A note on my use of the Courier 10 pitch font for all manuscripts: after doing some research, I found out that the main reason this font became so popular is because it turns your word processor into a pretend typewriter. Also, Courier is a monotype font having a uniform width, making it easy to read and determine reliable word counts. A couple of people I know, and at least one professional author, have expressed their own (and their editors') distaste for Courier 10 pitch. Far be it from me to gainsay their superior wisdom. In fact, if I have bad luck with Courier, I'll gladly switch to Times New Roman for ease of use if nothing else.
Thanks for all the feedback, everyone.
As a final note, my screenwriting efforts have taught me that Hollywood is much less lenient on manuscript format than book publishers are. Novice screenwriters are advised to adhere slavishly to established guidelines, lest their scripts be discarded unread.
These rules don't seem to apply to Quentin Tarantino.
First, a disclaimer I should have included before: everything I post on this site, unless accompanied by a citation of the original source, is a product of my preference and limited experience. Since I haven't actually published anything yet, please consult other, more experienced authorities before applying any of my writing advice to your own work.
The specific point I'd like to address is my omission of the ironclad rule stating that one should always check a publication's in-house submission guidelines before submitting a manuscript. The publisher's formatting preferences automatically trump anything I suggest.
A note on my use of the Courier 10 pitch font for all manuscripts: after doing some research, I found out that the main reason this font became so popular is because it turns your word processor into a pretend typewriter. Also, Courier is a monotype font having a uniform width, making it easy to read and determine reliable word counts. A couple of people I know, and at least one professional author, have expressed their own (and their editors') distaste for Courier 10 pitch. Far be it from me to gainsay their superior wisdom. In fact, if I have bad luck with Courier, I'll gladly switch to Times New Roman for ease of use if nothing else.
Thanks for all the feedback, everyone.
As a final note, my screenwriting efforts have taught me that Hollywood is much less lenient on manuscript format than book publishers are. Novice screenwriters are advised to adhere slavishly to established guidelines, lest their scripts be discarded unread.
These rules don't seem to apply to Quentin Tarantino.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Original Remake
A few months ago, my buddy Mick and I were having a phone conversation. He happened to be watching Catwoman at the time and remarked how he felt the film was sub par, to say the least. Discussing a Batman-related property jogged my memory of DC's plans to reboot that franchise shortly after Christopher Nolan's third Batman film is released. That item brought us to the subject of remakes in general.
Mick and I agreed that there's nothing inherently wrong with filming an updated version of an extant property. The problem is that Hollywood seems to have dispensed with all originality and creativity while endlessly rehashing ideas.
The two of us pooled our efforts to think of an existing movie that had had potential but failed to realize it for whatever reason. After kicking that particular peanut around for a while, we finally settled on the 1990 almost-classic Robot Jox.
The original movie had a lot going for it: tense Cold War intrigue, a script by veteran sci-fi author Joe Haldeman, and giant robot effects that hold up pretty well even today. The acknowledged reason for the film's lack of enduring success is the conflicting visions of Haldeman and director Stuart Gordon. of Reanimator fame. The writer wanted to make a hard science fiction movie accessible to kids, and the director wanted to make a kids' movie that would also appeal to adults. The end result was neither.
From there, Mick and I decided to take up the challenge of completing Haldeman and Gordon's failed opus. After countless hours of planning, exhaustive and largely unnecessary research, and weeks of writing, I am proud to announce that our script for a Robot Jox remake; aptly titled Robot Jocks, is well into its second draft.
Upon completion of the final screenplay, we hope to track down the current rights holder and pitch the script to them--out of a morbid desire to find out how they'll react, if nothing else.
Mick and I agreed that there's nothing inherently wrong with filming an updated version of an extant property. The problem is that Hollywood seems to have dispensed with all originality and creativity while endlessly rehashing ideas.
The two of us pooled our efforts to think of an existing movie that had had potential but failed to realize it for whatever reason. After kicking that particular peanut around for a while, we finally settled on the 1990 almost-classic Robot Jox.
The original movie had a lot going for it: tense Cold War intrigue, a script by veteran sci-fi author Joe Haldeman, and giant robot effects that hold up pretty well even today. The acknowledged reason for the film's lack of enduring success is the conflicting visions of Haldeman and director Stuart Gordon. of Reanimator fame. The writer wanted to make a hard science fiction movie accessible to kids, and the director wanted to make a kids' movie that would also appeal to adults. The end result was neither.
From there, Mick and I decided to take up the challenge of completing Haldeman and Gordon's failed opus. After countless hours of planning, exhaustive and largely unnecessary research, and weeks of writing, I am proud to announce that our script for a Robot Jox remake; aptly titled Robot Jocks, is well into its second draft.
Upon completion of the final screenplay, we hope to track down the current rights holder and pitch the script to them--out of a morbid desire to find out how they'll react, if nothing else.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Manuscript Preparation
Yesterday, Nick and I were working on preparing one of his short story manuscripts for submission to a fantasy magazine. The rules I learned from submitting my own story proved quite useful. I was reminded that unearthing the general submission guideliness required days of time and effort and involved consulting several sources. I've decided to summarize the manuscript format that I use here.
Cover Page
The margins should be one inch all around so the editor can make notes.
The author's contact information, including (real) name, mailing address, telephone number, and e-mail address goes in the upper left-hand corner and is single-spaced.
Halfway down the page, place the center-aligned title. One double-spaced line below that, write "by" and the author's real name or pen name, if applicable. Double-space again and list the manuscript's word count. I like to use "'x number' words" notation. Do not simply rely on your word processor's count. Editors have developed an industry standard method for tallying up the number of characters in a manuscript better suited to their needs.
The preferred word count formula is as follows: in your manuscript, locate an average-length, mid-paragraph line of text. Count all of the characters from left to right, even punctuation marks and spaces. Divide this figure by six. The product will give you the average number of characters per line. Next, count the total number of lines in the document. The main body of the text should always be double-spaced, so you don't have to count the empty spaces in between; just actual lines of text. A page with no breaks or other totally empty lines works best for conducting your count. Upon determining the total number of lines per page, multiply that figure by the average characters per line as derived earlier. Finally, multiply that number by the total number of pages (minus the cover page). Round this product to the nearest hundred. Authors round up. Editors round down.
In brief: word count = all the characters in a line/6 x total lines per page x (total pages - cover page), round to nearest hundred.
Once you've calculated and noted your manuscript's word count, your cover page is done.
First Page
Cover Page
The margins should be one inch all around so the editor can make notes.
The author's contact information, including (real) name, mailing address, telephone number, and e-mail address goes in the upper left-hand corner and is single-spaced.
Halfway down the page, place the center-aligned title. One double-spaced line below that, write "by" and the author's real name or pen name, if applicable. Double-space again and list the manuscript's word count. I like to use "'x number' words" notation. Do not simply rely on your word processor's count. Editors have developed an industry standard method for tallying up the number of characters in a manuscript better suited to their needs.
The preferred word count formula is as follows: in your manuscript, locate an average-length, mid-paragraph line of text. Count all of the characters from left to right, even punctuation marks and spaces. Divide this figure by six. The product will give you the average number of characters per line. Next, count the total number of lines in the document. The main body of the text should always be double-spaced, so you don't have to count the empty spaces in between; just actual lines of text. A page with no breaks or other totally empty lines works best for conducting your count. Upon determining the total number of lines per page, multiply that figure by the average characters per line as derived earlier. Finally, multiply that number by the total number of pages (minus the cover page). Round this product to the nearest hundred. Authors round up. Editors round down.
In brief: word count = all the characters in a line/6 x total lines per page x (total pages - cover page), round to nearest hundred.
Once you've calculated and noted your manuscript's word count, your cover page is done.
First Page
Now that you're on the actual first page, create a header to be displayed in the upper right. This header should appear on every subsequent page of the manuscript and should at least include the author's last name and the current page number, separated by a forward slash. The title (if it is short), or a significant element from the title, can also be placed between the author's name and the page number, also separated by slashes, e.g.: Farmer/Big Heist/1
For short stories, reproduce your contact information on the first page of the manuscript in the same format and position as it appears on the cover page.
Place the word count in the upper right-hand corner of the first page (not in the header).
Proceed halfway down the first page and write the story's title again. Double-space down and write "by" and the author's real/pen name.
Double space down twice, indent, and begin composing the story. Make sure the body of the text is double-spaced.
A vital detail often overlooked by first-time writers is the correct choice of font. Courier 10 pitch is the standard font for everything from novel manuscripts to screenplays. Your entire manuscript, including all of the information on the cover page, should appear in this font.
As an interesting aside, I use Open Office 3.3. Courier 10 pitch isn't listed in the drop down font menu, but Mick (not a typo; different guy) informed me that it can be written in manually. I tried this DIY tactic, and it worked.
Friday, April 29, 2011
The Nuts and Bolts of Writing a Novel
I'm going to give a brief walkthrough of the journey thus far pertaining to writing my book.
The first thing I did was simply to plant myself in front of the word processor (Open Office 3.3) and compose a first draft. In double-spaced, twelve point Times New Roman, this document ended up at 691 pages and took a little over two months to finish.
My next step is revising the text, which I am still literally in the middle of. I've run into some interesting quirks during the revision process.
Of paramount importance was bringing the text into conformity with standard manuscript format (which I would've used from the start had I known what it was then). My 691 page Times New Roman, twelve point document swelled to over 800 pages upon conversion to the mandatory Courier 10 Pitch font. I'd also been using asterisks to denote time breaks in the first draft, and I had to replace all of these with single pound signs.
The aesthetic work done, I began editing the whole book for spelling and grammatical mistakes, as well as for continuity errors and anything else that I felt detracted from the narrative. JJ kindly made himself available to proofread the first draft, and his comments proved to be a big help.
I'm currently on chapter 40, page 511 of the second draft. I'm averaging about 24 pages a day, so the manuscript should be finished in two weeks or so.
The first thing I did was simply to plant myself in front of the word processor (Open Office 3.3) and compose a first draft. In double-spaced, twelve point Times New Roman, this document ended up at 691 pages and took a little over two months to finish.
My next step is revising the text, which I am still literally in the middle of. I've run into some interesting quirks during the revision process.
Of paramount importance was bringing the text into conformity with standard manuscript format (which I would've used from the start had I known what it was then). My 691 page Times New Roman, twelve point document swelled to over 800 pages upon conversion to the mandatory Courier 10 Pitch font. I'd also been using asterisks to denote time breaks in the first draft, and I had to replace all of these with single pound signs.
The aesthetic work done, I began editing the whole book for spelling and grammatical mistakes, as well as for continuity errors and anything else that I felt detracted from the narrative. JJ kindly made himself available to proofread the first draft, and his comments proved to be a big help.
I'm currently on chapter 40, page 511 of the second draft. I'm averaging about 24 pages a day, so the manuscript should be finished in two weeks or so.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Works of the law
Considering the supposed saturation of the legal field, the difficulty I'm having contacting a copyright and IP lawyer seems odd.
I only have a few simple questions that I'd like some professional advice on, but four failed attempts later, the answers remain as elusive as ever. I certainly don't fault the law firm, as I'm sure they're quite busy. Looks like I'll just have to take the difficult but usually productive route of waiting.
I only have a few simple questions that I'd like some professional advice on, but four failed attempts later, the answers remain as elusive as ever. I certainly don't fault the law firm, as I'm sure they're quite busy. Looks like I'll just have to take the difficult but usually productive route of waiting.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Site Additions
I've been busy over the past couple of days adding supplemental material to the site. In-depth exposition about the book and its setting can now be accessed via the links at the top of the page.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Inaugural Post
At least for now, I'm still a holdout against the contemporary web culture of continually micro-posting about the minutiae of my life. To state it another way, I don't believe in posting comments unless there's something worth mentioning.
This post finds me freshly returned from FedEx/Kinko's and the USPS, whose combined powers I enlisted to mail my first short story manuscript to Weird Tales. Having read a few of their recently-published pieces, I doubt I could find a better home for my first finished work. Let's hope their editors share my sentiments.
This post finds me freshly returned from FedEx/Kinko's and the USPS, whose combined powers I enlisted to mail my first short story manuscript to Weird Tales. Having read a few of their recently-published pieces, I doubt I could find a better home for my first finished work. Let's hope their editors share my sentiments.
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