Nick Mamatas's Blog, page 46
September 29, 2013
The Inevitability of Formulaic Writing in Literary Fiction: A Case Study
As is well known, literary fiction is not taken very seriously by superior readers because the form is essentially formula. The protagonists are stock characters, a small handful of dramatic situations are raked over time and again, innovation is despised and mere competence celebrated (literary writing is even called "a craft", along the lines of cabinetmaking or macramé), and all of the other elements of fiction are subsumed to tedious moral lessons suited primarily to the adolescents and arrested adolescents that read the stuff.
Because there is so much literary fiction out there—it is mass-produced and heavily subsidized by middle-class fortunes and tax write-offs—its readers often read the work too closely. 'It's not all the same!' the defenders of literary fiction often seem to say, 'sometimes, for example, a character might be black, or poor.' I'm reminded once of a child forty-year-old man child I once overheard explaining the difference to a friend between warp drives and stargates in two of his favorite, and otherwise identical, television shows. But these changes are most often surface-level window-dressing only, and the formulaic nature of literary fiction is baldly obvious to anyone with any level of emotional maturity and intellectual discernment.
Take, for instance, "Cool for America" by Andrew Martin in the latest number of The Paris Review. This story was chosen at random—it was placed after an interview I'd wanted to read in the journal—and at first I thought it was a personal essay of some sort, so I read the first page. This itself is proof of how ubiquitous formulae are in literary fiction; the first literary story I happened upon in some time fit all the well-know cliches to a T.
The protagonist of "Cool for America" is male, of course, and an instructor of course. In the slightest variation from the typical, he is a photographer rather than a writer or man of letters himself. He suffers an injury during a soccer game—it's typical of literary fiction that protagonists are incapable of performing routine masculinities, to better express bourgeois anxieties about the lower social orders—and is laid up in bed. He has few friends in Missoula, Montana, where he was teaching, until Chloe appears.
Chloe is the sort of woman who only appears in literary fiction. "She was pretty in a messy way—dark hair piled up on her head, a sharp bent nose and big mouth. I guessed she was five years older than me, midthirties. She was wearing ratty pink denim shorts that looked like they were about to fall apart."
The denim shorts are an objective correlative of sorts—of course Chloe and the protagonist will have an affair, and of course it will not end well. Such correlates are often introduced on the second page. It is important that Chloe be "messy" too, in order to be sexually accessible to the traditional literary reader—an undersexed older man concerned about his waning libido, or their female partners who delight in picking over the flaws of the sexually desirable fantasy women who populate literary stories. Indeed, type "pink shorts" into a Google Image search, and who shall appear as the very first hit?
Well, well...
Chloe takes care of our disabled protagonist, who otherwise sits around amidst a collection of pop culture detritus: The Price is Right, Big Star, Rear Window, and Rand Paul. These items are incongruous, almost nonsensical when put all together, but there it a fetish for the "well-observed" cultural artifact in the genre, so many writers just scatter them about their settings, willy nilly, perhaps hoping that the setting will seem real. Of course, the Hitchcock film and obscure band are the 'good' artifacts, the game show and libertarian politician are the 'bad' ones. This is how a literary reader knows which characters to identify with.
Simple morality also comes into play when we encounter Chloe's husband, Jim. We know he is bad—on the side of Rand Paul and The Price is Right—because he is a vital figure, with a motorbike and a rockclimbing hobby. He drinks to excess, and we're told he doesn't appreciate Chloe. This last tidbit comes from Lisa, a former student of the protagonist who hangs around during his convalescence. While Lisa doesn't seem to sleep with the protag, she is still nothing more than a stock character type, like all the rest of them. One presumes that she had been sleeping with the protag, as she comes by the house with a ukelele to sing the aforementioned Big Star songs to him. She informs us that Jim is insufficiently cool, while Chloe is "cool for America." ("The titular line" is an especially obnoxious bit of formulaic writing endemic to literary fiction.)
Jim's suspicions are aroused, and being the antagonist he makes a veiled threat and then punches the protagonist in the face, chipping a tooth. This is the so-called climax of the story. Stock villain Jim is impotent even in his potency and standard tropes demand that the protagonist end up with Chloe and then discover that he isn't happy about it when she appears at his home later, with bags that he cannot help carry. This is known as the epiphany, and its placement and sameness—the protagonist realizes that he is unhappy—is an essential part of the formula, in just the same way the "happily ever after" ending is to romance novels.
The story is pure wish-fulfillment, which is unsurprising for formula fiction. Indeed, the well-worn formula emerges from the the wish-fulfillment desires of the emotionally stunted readership. A man, younger than the typical reader, lives with no real means of support though he cannot work much, and a very attractive woman appears to wait on him and to perform sexual acts despite the man being essentially unattractive to her, or anyone. The story only works for readers of literary fiction because it is a trope—long years of reading such stories allow readers to suspend disbelief despite the unrealistic setting, poorly motivated characters, pat morality ("Careful what you wish for!") and casual snobbery against the proletarianized "other."
Most upsetting of all is that literary fiction has an inflated view of itself, as the literature of the human condition. That is, these people—the authors and the readers both—think that they're creating and consuming some Really Deep Stuff, and often complain that society no longer takes such formulaic material seriously. The poor dears, do they have no idea what they sound like when they speak of such things?
Because there is so much literary fiction out there—it is mass-produced and heavily subsidized by middle-class fortunes and tax write-offs—its readers often read the work too closely. 'It's not all the same!' the defenders of literary fiction often seem to say, 'sometimes, for example, a character might be black, or poor.' I'm reminded once of a child forty-year-old man child I once overheard explaining the difference to a friend between warp drives and stargates in two of his favorite, and otherwise identical, television shows. But these changes are most often surface-level window-dressing only, and the formulaic nature of literary fiction is baldly obvious to anyone with any level of emotional maturity and intellectual discernment.
Take, for instance, "Cool for America" by Andrew Martin in the latest number of The Paris Review. This story was chosen at random—it was placed after an interview I'd wanted to read in the journal—and at first I thought it was a personal essay of some sort, so I read the first page. This itself is proof of how ubiquitous formulae are in literary fiction; the first literary story I happened upon in some time fit all the well-know cliches to a T.
The protagonist of "Cool for America" is male, of course, and an instructor of course. In the slightest variation from the typical, he is a photographer rather than a writer or man of letters himself. He suffers an injury during a soccer game—it's typical of literary fiction that protagonists are incapable of performing routine masculinities, to better express bourgeois anxieties about the lower social orders—and is laid up in bed. He has few friends in Missoula, Montana, where he was teaching, until Chloe appears.
Chloe is the sort of woman who only appears in literary fiction. "She was pretty in a messy way—dark hair piled up on her head, a sharp bent nose and big mouth. I guessed she was five years older than me, midthirties. She was wearing ratty pink denim shorts that looked like they were about to fall apart."
The denim shorts are an objective correlative of sorts—of course Chloe and the protagonist will have an affair, and of course it will not end well. Such correlates are often introduced on the second page. It is important that Chloe be "messy" too, in order to be sexually accessible to the traditional literary reader—an undersexed older man concerned about his waning libido, or their female partners who delight in picking over the flaws of the sexually desirable fantasy women who populate literary stories. Indeed, type "pink shorts" into a Google Image search, and who shall appear as the very first hit?
Well, well...
Chloe takes care of our disabled protagonist, who otherwise sits around amidst a collection of pop culture detritus: The Price is Right, Big Star, Rear Window, and Rand Paul. These items are incongruous, almost nonsensical when put all together, but there it a fetish for the "well-observed" cultural artifact in the genre, so many writers just scatter them about their settings, willy nilly, perhaps hoping that the setting will seem real. Of course, the Hitchcock film and obscure band are the 'good' artifacts, the game show and libertarian politician are the 'bad' ones. This is how a literary reader knows which characters to identify with.
Simple morality also comes into play when we encounter Chloe's husband, Jim. We know he is bad—on the side of Rand Paul and The Price is Right—because he is a vital figure, with a motorbike and a rockclimbing hobby. He drinks to excess, and we're told he doesn't appreciate Chloe. This last tidbit comes from Lisa, a former student of the protagonist who hangs around during his convalescence. While Lisa doesn't seem to sleep with the protag, she is still nothing more than a stock character type, like all the rest of them. One presumes that she had been sleeping with the protag, as she comes by the house with a ukelele to sing the aforementioned Big Star songs to him. She informs us that Jim is insufficiently cool, while Chloe is "cool for America." ("The titular line" is an especially obnoxious bit of formulaic writing endemic to literary fiction.)
Jim's suspicions are aroused, and being the antagonist he makes a veiled threat and then punches the protagonist in the face, chipping a tooth. This is the so-called climax of the story. Stock villain Jim is impotent even in his potency and standard tropes demand that the protagonist end up with Chloe and then discover that he isn't happy about it when she appears at his home later, with bags that he cannot help carry. This is known as the epiphany, and its placement and sameness—the protagonist realizes that he is unhappy—is an essential part of the formula, in just the same way the "happily ever after" ending is to romance novels.
The story is pure wish-fulfillment, which is unsurprising for formula fiction. Indeed, the well-worn formula emerges from the the wish-fulfillment desires of the emotionally stunted readership. A man, younger than the typical reader, lives with no real means of support though he cannot work much, and a very attractive woman appears to wait on him and to perform sexual acts despite the man being essentially unattractive to her, or anyone. The story only works for readers of literary fiction because it is a trope—long years of reading such stories allow readers to suspend disbelief despite the unrealistic setting, poorly motivated characters, pat morality ("Careful what you wish for!") and casual snobbery against the proletarianized "other."
Most upsetting of all is that literary fiction has an inflated view of itself, as the literature of the human condition. That is, these people—the authors and the readers both—think that they're creating and consuming some Really Deep Stuff, and often complain that society no longer takes such formulaic material seriously. The poor dears, do they have no idea what they sound like when they speak of such things?
September 25, 2013
Wednesday Quick Notes
Amazon.com sent people who pre-ordered Love is the Law from its site a letter yesterday saying, basically, "OMG, we have NO IDEA WHEN THE BOOK IS SHIPPING!" That's because the books weren't in the warehouse yesterday, due to the delay regarding the price change. Orders are still 'safe' and will be fulfilled on or before the new on-sale date. The letter came from a machine that sends out letters. Don't sweat it.
Re: yesterday's post, a Twitter conversations seems to have influenced the editor to change the premium from "pay to submit" to "pay to get any sort of story edited by us, the editors" which is a fine replacement. We'll see if that change actually gets carried out. I suppose the two people who signed up for the dubious opportunity might object to not being allowed to pay to submit.
The Best American site is live for the forthcoming anthologies including Best American Short Stories, Best American Mystery Stories (which I am in), and all the other "bests." Apparently there is now a Best American Infographics volume. Which is weird.
The ebook version of the anthology Where Thy Dark Eye Glances: Queering Edgar Allan Poe is on sale for only $3.99 with this coupon code: HL85M It includes my story "Eureka!", which I still like ten months after writing it, so I hope some of you check it out.
Following the news on Syria from the left has led me to a conclusion: it actually was important, all that furious energy expended over the Soviet Union and other so-called Communist countries. Today, the left has basically created two camps: those who defend Assad against "imperialism" (US intervention) and those who defend some secular section of the war against Assad (with more or less defend-not-support rhetoric for the Islamist elements of the war) and are also anti-intervention. The rhetoric has been pretty stark, to the point where even the ISO has published some polemics against other left groups. The ISO has always been like the WWF/WWE, and refused to acknowledge the existence of other professional wrestling promotions left groups. So, interesting!
The pro-Assad left (and the merely objectively pro-Assad left) aren't even Islamophobes. They seem to think that Assad is an anti-imperialist because Cuba says so, and Russia and China are in his corner. I think the fact that imperialism is an era or epoch, and not simply an activity the US and US clients engages in, has been lost, and it seems to have systematically been lost on those who politics were formed by Cold War bipolarity. And I'm sure they have some terrible things to say to me about the Russian mafia and rising inequality in China or whatnot.
Re: yesterday's post, a Twitter conversations seems to have influenced the editor to change the premium from "pay to submit" to "pay to get any sort of story edited by us, the editors" which is a fine replacement. We'll see if that change actually gets carried out. I suppose the two people who signed up for the dubious opportunity might object to not being allowed to pay to submit.
The Best American site is live for the forthcoming anthologies including Best American Short Stories, Best American Mystery Stories (which I am in), and all the other "bests." Apparently there is now a Best American Infographics volume. Which is weird.
The ebook version of the anthology Where Thy Dark Eye Glances: Queering Edgar Allan Poe is on sale for only $3.99 with this coupon code: HL85M It includes my story "Eureka!", which I still like ten months after writing it, so I hope some of you check it out.
Following the news on Syria from the left has led me to a conclusion: it actually was important, all that furious energy expended over the Soviet Union and other so-called Communist countries. Today, the left has basically created two camps: those who defend Assad against "imperialism" (US intervention) and those who defend some secular section of the war against Assad (with more or less defend-not-support rhetoric for the Islamist elements of the war) and are also anti-intervention. The rhetoric has been pretty stark, to the point where even the ISO has published some polemics against other left groups. The ISO has always been like the WWF/WWE, and refused to acknowledge the existence of other professional wrestling promotions left groups. So, interesting!
The pro-Assad left (and the merely objectively pro-Assad left) aren't even Islamophobes. They seem to think that Assad is an anti-imperialist because Cuba says so, and Russia and China are in his corner. I think the fact that imperialism is an era or epoch, and not simply an activity the US and US clients engages in, has been lost, and it seems to have systematically been lost on those who politics were formed by Cold War bipolarity. And I'm sure they have some terrible things to say to me about the Russian mafia and rising inequality in China or whatnot.
September 24, 2013
Opportunity for chumps!
O Kickstarter, what madness have you wrought? Here's an anthology, edited by nobody in particular, that graciously allows individuals to pay $300 for the privilege of having their story read and edited by the anthologists.
Here's a screencap:
The "soldier" level of funding is fifty bucks, by the way, so let's call it $250 to have a story read and edited and maaaybe published, but it seems not at the five cent a word rate the other authors are being paid. (After all, one might make one's money back that way with a story of sufficient length!) Oh, and the anthologists will have COMPLETE EDITORIAL DOMAIN over the work. Hmm, that's now how I managed my anthologies. That's not how my work in the two dozen anthologies I've contributed to have worked. Of course, I also got paid instead of having to pay.
Well, at least the Kickstarter lists all the real writers in the book already, so we'll know who the Biggest Sucker in the World is when the title is released. Certainly I know lots of people who pay $300 for just a mere hour of humiliation, not months of the same. Mistress Kiki would be proud.
Here's a screencap:
The "soldier" level of funding is fifty bucks, by the way, so let's call it $250 to have a story read and edited and maaaybe published, but it seems not at the five cent a word rate the other authors are being paid. (After all, one might make one's money back that way with a story of sufficient length!) Oh, and the anthologists will have COMPLETE EDITORIAL DOMAIN over the work. Hmm, that's now how I managed my anthologies. That's not how my work in the two dozen anthologies I've contributed to have worked. Of course, I also got paid instead of having to pay.
Well, at least the Kickstarter lists all the real writers in the book already, so we'll know who the Biggest Sucker in the World is when the title is released. Certainly I know lots of people who pay $300 for just a mere hour of humiliation, not months of the same. Mistress Kiki would be proud.
September 23, 2013
Let Us End This Unexamined Complaint
One of the cliches of the SF/F world is that one is expected to complain that during panel discussions, audience members will sometimes offer up comments rather than questions to the panelists. Audience members should only ask questions it seems because of...well, fifteen years later, I still don't know. Not every expert is on every panel, so it stands to reason that some experts will be in the audience and may wish to contribute. Further, lots of panelists are idiots and say all sorts of stupid things, so with a bar that low, why discriminate against people who simply weren't assigned a particular panel. Among the genius comments I've heard from panelists over the last few years:
Lovecraft was an anti-racist writer—it doesn't matter whether you were white black yellow or strip-ed (yes, pronounced strip-ED), when the Old Ones come to eat you. Also he wrote about Maine, where he was from.
Invisible ink. Maybe that's magical realism.
If you don't have an agent, just get a patent attorney to handle your contracts with publishers. And be sure to give away plenty of stories for free on the Internet, like I do with the Huffington Post.
Criticizing Wall Street is anti-Semitic.
When I think about literary fiction, I think about A Stranger in a Strange Land—I still have sex with my water brothers forty years later. That's the power of literary fiction.
I know this is a panel about the best fiction of the last year, but I really haven't read anything this year. Well, maybe Sookie Stackhouse? When did that come out? *takes out knitting* *later, answers her cell phone and confirms a lunch date while on panel*
Panelist A: *recites Heinlein's rules of writing*
Panelist B: Well, those are good rules, but here are MY rules for writing! *recites Heinlein's rules of writing*
We shouldn't discuss "Western" civilization as that is a racist term; there is no other kind of civilization in the strictest sense. There's just civilization, and various savageries and despotisms.
I cannot sit down at my computer and check my email without being bombarded by solicitations to buy real snuff films!
A poll of young teenage boys showed that many of them don't like performing cunnilingus. This is the sort of social issue I've dedicated my life to solving.
We all agree that humanity can be improved, and we shouldn't let Hitler and his legacy interfere with my wish to have genetically superior children.
One day psychology will be a real science and we can use it to eliminate all the negative traits that stand in the way of utopia. Sure, in the past this idea has been used to oppress people, but there have only been a handful of societies with psychology, and that's too small a sample to draw any conclusions.
Both major political parties are slaves to the environmentalist movement.
People don't read online fiction magazines, because everyone knows you can't get something for nothing. Anyway, about my online non-fiction magazine, which is totally FREE to read...
And to be clear, I've heard these comments are everyday regional cons such as Arisia and Capclave and Icon (Stony Brook), at supposedly superior cons like Wiscon and Readercon, and at great big cons such as Worldcon. Panelists are just as dumb as audience members.
Lovecraft was an anti-racist writer—it doesn't matter whether you were white black yellow or strip-ed (yes, pronounced strip-ED), when the Old Ones come to eat you. Also he wrote about Maine, where he was from.
Invisible ink. Maybe that's magical realism.
If you don't have an agent, just get a patent attorney to handle your contracts with publishers. And be sure to give away plenty of stories for free on the Internet, like I do with the Huffington Post.
Criticizing Wall Street is anti-Semitic.
When I think about literary fiction, I think about A Stranger in a Strange Land—I still have sex with my water brothers forty years later. That's the power of literary fiction.
I know this is a panel about the best fiction of the last year, but I really haven't read anything this year. Well, maybe Sookie Stackhouse? When did that come out? *takes out knitting* *later, answers her cell phone and confirms a lunch date while on panel*
Panelist A: *recites Heinlein's rules of writing*
Panelist B: Well, those are good rules, but here are MY rules for writing! *recites Heinlein's rules of writing*
We shouldn't discuss "Western" civilization as that is a racist term; there is no other kind of civilization in the strictest sense. There's just civilization, and various savageries and despotisms.
I cannot sit down at my computer and check my email without being bombarded by solicitations to buy real snuff films!
A poll of young teenage boys showed that many of them don't like performing cunnilingus. This is the sort of social issue I've dedicated my life to solving.
We all agree that humanity can be improved, and we shouldn't let Hitler and his legacy interfere with my wish to have genetically superior children.
One day psychology will be a real science and we can use it to eliminate all the negative traits that stand in the way of utopia. Sure, in the past this idea has been used to oppress people, but there have only been a handful of societies with psychology, and that's too small a sample to draw any conclusions.
Both major political parties are slaves to the environmentalist movement.
People don't read online fiction magazines, because everyone knows you can't get something for nothing. Anyway, about my online non-fiction magazine, which is totally FREE to read...
And to be clear, I've heard these comments are everyday regional cons such as Arisia and Capclave and Icon (Stony Brook), at supposedly superior cons like Wiscon and Readercon, and at great big cons such as Worldcon. Panelists are just as dumb as audience members.
September 20, 2013
LOVE IS A DEFLATIONARY CRISIS
As previously discussed, my next novel will actually be a rack-sized mass market paperback original. Online retailers are catching up to this fact: Barnes and Noble and Amazon have the new, cheap, $7.99 price. Powells and smaller indies do not as of yet, but pre-orders will adjust to the real price on shipping at the very latest, so I am assured.
September 19, 2013
What Every Girl Should Know
I just got back from the play What Every Girl Should Know at Impact Theater, which is under a pizzeria here in Berkeley. Given the location I had low expectations, but it was the best play I've seen in town since The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Diety.
Written by my Facebook pal Monica Byrne, What Every Girl Should Know tells the story of four young Catholic girls in a home for wayward types on the Lower East Side. There's a temptation to give the girls types—Joan's the smart one, Lucy's the innocent, Ann is tough, Theresa a wild one...but the girls are written sufficiently well that the stereotypes fall apart. Joan is more naive than we think, and Lucy is a drunken firebug! All four have been sexually abused, and are engaged in sexual explorations with their pillows and a log book. What every girl should know, they don't!
But newcomer Joan might. Her mother's in prison for distributing Margaret Sanger's materials on contraception, including the the pamphlet from which the play takes its name. At wit's end in the stultifying atmosphere of the institution, the quartet create a little cult for the veneration of Sanger. And they need a patroness like her as well, as three of the four are in the joint for sexual irregularities.
As an event, What Every Girl Should Know was pretty amazing. The space is tiny, but was well-suited for the hothouse environment, and the acting was generally good to great. The other theaters in Berkeley have more money and are more likely to have union actions, but the performances are often mediocre. Not this time, for the four actors here. The woman playing Joan was a little quieter than necessary given how explosive the other three were, but all were quite evocative.
Less satisfying were the ecstatic dance numbers—it was the usual flail about and spin and change places stuff that every play seems to require these days, perhaps as part of zoning in an entertainment district. They could have been shorter, or plain ol' acting could have saved the day. We were in a pizzeria basement, after all. There's no seat more than four yards from an actor's face.
One other minor bit is the issue of virgin birth, which also seems to be universal when it comes to plays and films with a Catholic theme. But it comes late in the play, so doesn't overburden the relationships between the girls, which is where What Every Girl Should Know shines. So check it out.
Written by my Facebook pal Monica Byrne, What Every Girl Should Know tells the story of four young Catholic girls in a home for wayward types on the Lower East Side. There's a temptation to give the girls types—Joan's the smart one, Lucy's the innocent, Ann is tough, Theresa a wild one...but the girls are written sufficiently well that the stereotypes fall apart. Joan is more naive than we think, and Lucy is a drunken firebug! All four have been sexually abused, and are engaged in sexual explorations with their pillows and a log book. What every girl should know, they don't!
But newcomer Joan might. Her mother's in prison for distributing Margaret Sanger's materials on contraception, including the the pamphlet from which the play takes its name. At wit's end in the stultifying atmosphere of the institution, the quartet create a little cult for the veneration of Sanger. And they need a patroness like her as well, as three of the four are in the joint for sexual irregularities.
As an event, What Every Girl Should Know was pretty amazing. The space is tiny, but was well-suited for the hothouse environment, and the acting was generally good to great. The other theaters in Berkeley have more money and are more likely to have union actions, but the performances are often mediocre. Not this time, for the four actors here. The woman playing Joan was a little quieter than necessary given how explosive the other three were, but all were quite evocative.
Less satisfying were the ecstatic dance numbers—it was the usual flail about and spin and change places stuff that every play seems to require these days, perhaps as part of zoning in an entertainment district. They could have been shorter, or plain ol' acting could have saved the day. We were in a pizzeria basement, after all. There's no seat more than four yards from an actor's face.
One other minor bit is the issue of virgin birth, which also seems to be universal when it comes to plays and films with a Catholic theme. But it comes late in the play, so doesn't overburden the relationships between the girls, which is where What Every Girl Should Know shines. So check it out.
September 17, 2013
Bundle of what?
On yesterday's shooting:
Aaron Alexis seems a study in contradictions: a former Navy reservist, a Defense Department contractor, a convert to Buddhism who was taking an online course in aeronautics. But he also had flashes of temper that led to run-ins with police over shootings in Fort Worth, Texas, and Seattle.
I'm not seeing the contradictions here. This is like Bart Simpson's speech before the model UN: "The exports of Libya are numerous in amount. One thing they export is corn, or as the Indians call it, 'maize'. Another famous Indian was 'Crazy Horse'. In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrast. Thank you."
Aaron Alexis seems a study in contradictions: a former Navy reservist, a Defense Department contractor, a convert to Buddhism who was taking an online course in aeronautics. But he also had flashes of temper that led to run-ins with police over shootings in Fort Worth, Texas, and Seattle.
I'm not seeing the contradictions here. This is like Bart Simpson's speech before the model UN: "The exports of Libya are numerous in amount. One thing they export is corn, or as the Indians call it, 'maize'. Another famous Indian was 'Crazy Horse'. In conclusion, Libya is a land of contrast. Thank you."
September 16, 2013
New LOVE IS THE LAW date
At the new price of $7.99, Love is the Law will be on sale in the Direct Market (read: comic stores) on Oct 2nd, and to the bookstore trade on Oct 15th. Amazon may spit out copies sometime between those two, as has been known to happen.
Ebook information to follow.
Ebook information to follow.
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