D.T. Neal's Blog, page 18
June 11, 2023
Writes of Passage
I don't mean for this blog to be all about bellyaching; it's just that there are various things out there I feel I should comment on from my perspective as an indie writer.
As I think I've mentioned before, when I first "got serious" about my writing (that is, sending stories out and collecting rejection slips, which I held onto for years until I unfortunately lost them, or my ex threw them out, perhaps?), I was 18 or 19. I'd send to big-name magazines like OMNI and PLAYBOY, etc. Ones that had story sections and paid well.
My young man logic was straightforward -- go for the big ticket venues, see if maybe I can get published by them. One could look back on that and see both innocence and hubris -- I know now I was nowhere near ready at the time to get my work out there that way. I just did it out of my love for writers like Ray Bradbury, Richard Matheson, Michael Moorcock, Kurt Vonnegut, and many others. They had done it, so I was going to try to do it.
From 19 - 32 years of age, I just concentrated on reading and doing journal-writing. I didn't send more stories out in that time. I just didn't do it.
Again, hindsight kind of nags at me a bit. I should have continued to send stories out back then, instead of spending 13 years honing my craft. I should have done trial-by-fire and kept slinging stories out back then, while I still had the chance to get a foothold.
The reason I say that is because the publishing landscape evolved (or devolved?) over that time -- magazines folded, or got rid of their story sections, and things just changed for the worse for writers.
By the time I got some stories published (I'll always be grateful to Ireland's ALBEDO ONE for actually publishing a couple of my stories, and even nominating one of my stories for one of their Aeon Awards -- I'd gotten second place, itself another story), the publishing world was beginning its slow slide as a waning industry.
Yes, stories were still appearing, but it became far harder to actually get published anywhere, somehow. At least for me, it did.
I found myself writing story after story, building up inventory, and finding only rejection after rejection. It began to get unwieldy, tracking those constant rejections and futile submissions.
And, sure, I could have simply kept on that route, but while that was going on, it became "publishing-perilous" to be a white male writer in many ways. There was a groundswell of resentment as other groups pushed (successfully) to the table and garnered the acceptances. I wasn't part of the problem, aside from being a straight white male writer.
Being a white guy became a bad thing -- never mind that I wasn't a rich white guy, wasn't an asshole white guy, wasn't a fascist white guy. As a progressive white guy, I accepted that. I didn't recoil from it. Others should have a chance to get their stories read -- it's only fair.
However, the net effect is that it's even harder for me to get published today than it ever was. Nobody will admit to implicit bias existing in the still very, very, very white industry of publishing, so the tendency is to overcorrect and attend to make amends through publishing.
I'd point out that white women still get published a lot, since their whiteness is somehow negated by their gender and sex. Maybe a topic for another day, if I really want to get myself in trouble for speaking openly....
Others would (rightfully) point out that white men are still prominently represented in publishing (the names are plentiful, you know who they all are). And, at the top, sure, yeah, I see that -- those dinosaurs still rule the land. But they're slowly going extinct.
From my perspective, how'd I get to find it so difficult to get published? Do I suck? Am I a shit writer? Something I always entertain as a possibility (honestly, it's a usefully masochistic tendency for any writer, in that it at least forces you to try to do and be better at writing if you beat yourself up about your words instead of just thinking what you write is just fantastic).
Over time, however, I walked that back. Based on the stories I was reading, I *was* writing good stuff. And I knew that stuff wasn't getting picked up anywhere by anybody.
My reasons for self-publishing (*gasp*) were simply that I was building up too much inventory -- too many heavily-rejected stories languishing on my laptop, piling up, going nowhere. No prospects, no venues, with only my desire to write and dedication to it sustaining me.
And I wanted to write novels, and I despaired of those novels ever getting picked up anywhere. I dutifully slung out stories and novels to publishers, and still racked up the rejections. I used to joke that my stories were dosed with "editorbane" -- sure to repel editors. And "agentbane" as well -- as no agent would pick me up.
Now, I could have spent another 20 precious years going that route, accumulating the 10,000 (or 100,000) rejections I'd need before someone might (stressing *might*) deign to publish one of my books.
However, the trad publishing world was starting to become a swamp. The cultural cachet of publishing was diminishing. Writers themselves, always on the margins, were pushed even further out into the realm of the obscure. "Bestseller" status continued to lower the bar as fewer books sold.
I could simply do it myself. I worked with my partner, who's a fantastic graphic designer, and she and I started Nosetouch Press.
It was partly born out of my own frustration with the lack of publishing credits I'd accumulated, as much as it was a resentment of the trad publishing infrastructure that seemed to hobble even writers who'd cleared the gatekeepers.
From my POV, I could get my books out there, they'd look good, and my partner and I could actually make money directly from our efforts, versus getting whatever pittance might come from trad.
There's a good line I remember from the NEW YORKER that still stands out to me:
"Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one” (New Yorker, May 14, 1960)"
The capacity to get published is guaranteed only to publishers. That can be for better or worse, depending on the publisher. I strove to always try for the better, while rejecting the worse.
Some of you have read my books. You be the judge, Gentle Reader. Are my books worth reading? I think they are. I think I made the right call. I also know that none of my books would have seen the light of day if I'd tried to go full trad with them.
My personal ethos is "trad quality, despite being indie" -- and I've stuck to that.
More on this to come, as this post has gone on long enough....
As I think I've mentioned before, when I first "got serious" about my writing (that is, sending stories out and collecting rejection slips, which I held onto for years until I unfortunately lost them, or my ex threw them out, perhaps?), I was 18 or 19. I'd send to big-name magazines like OMNI and PLAYBOY, etc. Ones that had story sections and paid well.
My young man logic was straightforward -- go for the big ticket venues, see if maybe I can get published by them. One could look back on that and see both innocence and hubris -- I know now I was nowhere near ready at the time to get my work out there that way. I just did it out of my love for writers like Ray Bradbury, Richard Matheson, Michael Moorcock, Kurt Vonnegut, and many others. They had done it, so I was going to try to do it.
From 19 - 32 years of age, I just concentrated on reading and doing journal-writing. I didn't send more stories out in that time. I just didn't do it.
Again, hindsight kind of nags at me a bit. I should have continued to send stories out back then, instead of spending 13 years honing my craft. I should have done trial-by-fire and kept slinging stories out back then, while I still had the chance to get a foothold.
The reason I say that is because the publishing landscape evolved (or devolved?) over that time -- magazines folded, or got rid of their story sections, and things just changed for the worse for writers.
By the time I got some stories published (I'll always be grateful to Ireland's ALBEDO ONE for actually publishing a couple of my stories, and even nominating one of my stories for one of their Aeon Awards -- I'd gotten second place, itself another story), the publishing world was beginning its slow slide as a waning industry.
Yes, stories were still appearing, but it became far harder to actually get published anywhere, somehow. At least for me, it did.
I found myself writing story after story, building up inventory, and finding only rejection after rejection. It began to get unwieldy, tracking those constant rejections and futile submissions.
And, sure, I could have simply kept on that route, but while that was going on, it became "publishing-perilous" to be a white male writer in many ways. There was a groundswell of resentment as other groups pushed (successfully) to the table and garnered the acceptances. I wasn't part of the problem, aside from being a straight white male writer.
Being a white guy became a bad thing -- never mind that I wasn't a rich white guy, wasn't an asshole white guy, wasn't a fascist white guy. As a progressive white guy, I accepted that. I didn't recoil from it. Others should have a chance to get their stories read -- it's only fair.
However, the net effect is that it's even harder for me to get published today than it ever was. Nobody will admit to implicit bias existing in the still very, very, very white industry of publishing, so the tendency is to overcorrect and attend to make amends through publishing.
I'd point out that white women still get published a lot, since their whiteness is somehow negated by their gender and sex. Maybe a topic for another day, if I really want to get myself in trouble for speaking openly....
Others would (rightfully) point out that white men are still prominently represented in publishing (the names are plentiful, you know who they all are). And, at the top, sure, yeah, I see that -- those dinosaurs still rule the land. But they're slowly going extinct.
From my perspective, how'd I get to find it so difficult to get published? Do I suck? Am I a shit writer? Something I always entertain as a possibility (honestly, it's a usefully masochistic tendency for any writer, in that it at least forces you to try to do and be better at writing if you beat yourself up about your words instead of just thinking what you write is just fantastic).
Over time, however, I walked that back. Based on the stories I was reading, I *was* writing good stuff. And I knew that stuff wasn't getting picked up anywhere by anybody.
My reasons for self-publishing (*gasp*) were simply that I was building up too much inventory -- too many heavily-rejected stories languishing on my laptop, piling up, going nowhere. No prospects, no venues, with only my desire to write and dedication to it sustaining me.
And I wanted to write novels, and I despaired of those novels ever getting picked up anywhere. I dutifully slung out stories and novels to publishers, and still racked up the rejections. I used to joke that my stories were dosed with "editorbane" -- sure to repel editors. And "agentbane" as well -- as no agent would pick me up.
Now, I could have spent another 20 precious years going that route, accumulating the 10,000 (or 100,000) rejections I'd need before someone might (stressing *might*) deign to publish one of my books.
However, the trad publishing world was starting to become a swamp. The cultural cachet of publishing was diminishing. Writers themselves, always on the margins, were pushed even further out into the realm of the obscure. "Bestseller" status continued to lower the bar as fewer books sold.
I could simply do it myself. I worked with my partner, who's a fantastic graphic designer, and she and I started Nosetouch Press.
It was partly born out of my own frustration with the lack of publishing credits I'd accumulated, as much as it was a resentment of the trad publishing infrastructure that seemed to hobble even writers who'd cleared the gatekeepers.
From my POV, I could get my books out there, they'd look good, and my partner and I could actually make money directly from our efforts, versus getting whatever pittance might come from trad.
There's a good line I remember from the NEW YORKER that still stands out to me:
"Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one” (New Yorker, May 14, 1960)"
The capacity to get published is guaranteed only to publishers. That can be for better or worse, depending on the publisher. I strove to always try for the better, while rejecting the worse.
Some of you have read my books. You be the judge, Gentle Reader. Are my books worth reading? I think they are. I think I made the right call. I also know that none of my books would have seen the light of day if I'd tried to go full trad with them.
My personal ethos is "trad quality, despite being indie" -- and I've stuck to that.
More on this to come, as this post has gone on long enough....
June 10, 2023
Autographic Violence
Alright, this next thing I'm going to blog about would get me pilloried among the indie writer set, but I'm still going to say it.
Two things I see very commonly done by indie writers are: 1) signing books; and 2) desperately trying to get their books on shelves.
The signing book thing is just ridiculous. It's a rampant display of egotistical wannabe-ism among these indie writers that they trot out book signings as somehow worthwhile.
I'm sure some who've done it have had transcendent experiences that'll last their lifetimes, sure, yeah, okay, but the reality is that indie writers aren't celebrities. No one cares who they are. The most successful of indie writers are still nobodies -- they are unknown by the populace at large. Even among other writers, they're largely unknown.
What is the value of a signed book from a nobody? Nothing. Even famous and bestselling novelists only do such things because they're actually famous and successful.
The ones doing it who aren't famous and successful? Pretentious as hell. It would be like if you were just walking down the street and offered your autograph to strangers, simply for being you. It's the same thing.
But I think so many indie writers are so attention-starved and desperate that they cling to book-signings as somehow validating. "See? I'm so self-important, I'm signing my book."
Needless to say, I don't do signings; I'm not worthy of it. I've had one reader ask for a signed book, and I was taken aback by someone even asking it of me.
And I suppose that's the distinction -- if a reader asks a writer to sign their book, it's somewhat less cringe (even if still absurd), versus going out somewhere for a book-signing as a complete unknown, offering to sign books nobody knows about and/or won't even read.
Related to it is the thirst for getting a book or two on the shelf (whether a bookstore or a library). Obviously, writers want to see their books on shelves, but I hate to break it to the indie writers out there -- having a book on a shelf means fuck-all.
Booksellers want their shelves filled with books that can reliably sell. A book from a nobody indie author? It's a hard sell. Even a book from a successful (?) indie author can be a hard sell.
I think I said it before, either here or elsewhere, but indie books are like barnacles. They accumulate and can sink a bookseller if they're not careful. Booksellers don't want books on their shelves that don't sell, which is why they go with surefire (even then, always dicey) books that readers will pick up.
While it's certainly psychologically gratifying for an indie writer to get one or more of their books on a shelf somewhere, it means squat in the larger scheme of things.
The impulse among indie writers to seek out shelf space is all about them feeling validated about their work, and nothing more.
What writers are better off doing is cultivating their craft and trying to find a home for their work (however that precisely happens) than arrogantly attending no-name writer book-signings and getting their nothing books on shelves for photo opps.
I know this sounds very buzzkill-ish and killjoy-ish, but the sooner indie writers understand that they're not rock stars, the better off the world will be.
Now, I know the counterpointers will say "Yeah, but, how else will your book get seen? How will readers find you?"
All I can say is an indie writer must hone their craft, get their books out there, and market themselves via social media to try to build their audience through the strength of their work.
There's a difference between social media marketing and preposterously attending book-signings as unknowns, or trying to foist your nigh-unsellable books onto bookstore shelves.
If all you're looking for is a sense of ego gratification and validation, then keep doing it, but don't expect this to make you a successful indie writer.
That's part of the problem with indie writers -- they are burdened with the emotional isolation of writing (on whatever level they're at) and they cling to crap like book-signings and bookshelf-pimping to make them feel like they're not simply wasting everyone's time.
You know why most people attend book-signings of actual celebrity writers? Because they want to SEE A CELEBRITY WRITER. You know who isn't a celebrity writer? All those indie writers out there manning tables for people to give their signed books to. Nobody ever becomes a celebrity writer that way.
Neither approach is the way to raise your profile as a writer. Save yourself the pain and embarrassment, and just don't bother with these things until you've somehow made it as a writer.
However that happens is a mystery of the ages, but I'm confident it's not by signing your unknown books and/or trying to strongarm booksellers to put your books on their shelves. If you want to do that, that's your business, but don't be surprised if you're just as unknown as you were before you did those things.
Work on your words. Yes, in isolation. Yes, away from adoring multitudes. That's how your work will improve. Hard work, endless reading, constant revision, careful editing, and smart marketing.
Two things I see very commonly done by indie writers are: 1) signing books; and 2) desperately trying to get their books on shelves.
The signing book thing is just ridiculous. It's a rampant display of egotistical wannabe-ism among these indie writers that they trot out book signings as somehow worthwhile.
I'm sure some who've done it have had transcendent experiences that'll last their lifetimes, sure, yeah, okay, but the reality is that indie writers aren't celebrities. No one cares who they are. The most successful of indie writers are still nobodies -- they are unknown by the populace at large. Even among other writers, they're largely unknown.
What is the value of a signed book from a nobody? Nothing. Even famous and bestselling novelists only do such things because they're actually famous and successful.
The ones doing it who aren't famous and successful? Pretentious as hell. It would be like if you were just walking down the street and offered your autograph to strangers, simply for being you. It's the same thing.
But I think so many indie writers are so attention-starved and desperate that they cling to book-signings as somehow validating. "See? I'm so self-important, I'm signing my book."
Needless to say, I don't do signings; I'm not worthy of it. I've had one reader ask for a signed book, and I was taken aback by someone even asking it of me.
And I suppose that's the distinction -- if a reader asks a writer to sign their book, it's somewhat less cringe (even if still absurd), versus going out somewhere for a book-signing as a complete unknown, offering to sign books nobody knows about and/or won't even read.
Related to it is the thirst for getting a book or two on the shelf (whether a bookstore or a library). Obviously, writers want to see their books on shelves, but I hate to break it to the indie writers out there -- having a book on a shelf means fuck-all.
Booksellers want their shelves filled with books that can reliably sell. A book from a nobody indie author? It's a hard sell. Even a book from a successful (?) indie author can be a hard sell.
I think I said it before, either here or elsewhere, but indie books are like barnacles. They accumulate and can sink a bookseller if they're not careful. Booksellers don't want books on their shelves that don't sell, which is why they go with surefire (even then, always dicey) books that readers will pick up.
While it's certainly psychologically gratifying for an indie writer to get one or more of their books on a shelf somewhere, it means squat in the larger scheme of things.
The impulse among indie writers to seek out shelf space is all about them feeling validated about their work, and nothing more.
What writers are better off doing is cultivating their craft and trying to find a home for their work (however that precisely happens) than arrogantly attending no-name writer book-signings and getting their nothing books on shelves for photo opps.
I know this sounds very buzzkill-ish and killjoy-ish, but the sooner indie writers understand that they're not rock stars, the better off the world will be.
Now, I know the counterpointers will say "Yeah, but, how else will your book get seen? How will readers find you?"
All I can say is an indie writer must hone their craft, get their books out there, and market themselves via social media to try to build their audience through the strength of their work.
There's a difference between social media marketing and preposterously attending book-signings as unknowns, or trying to foist your nigh-unsellable books onto bookstore shelves.
If all you're looking for is a sense of ego gratification and validation, then keep doing it, but don't expect this to make you a successful indie writer.
That's part of the problem with indie writers -- they are burdened with the emotional isolation of writing (on whatever level they're at) and they cling to crap like book-signings and bookshelf-pimping to make them feel like they're not simply wasting everyone's time.
You know why most people attend book-signings of actual celebrity writers? Because they want to SEE A CELEBRITY WRITER. You know who isn't a celebrity writer? All those indie writers out there manning tables for people to give their signed books to. Nobody ever becomes a celebrity writer that way.
Neither approach is the way to raise your profile as a writer. Save yourself the pain and embarrassment, and just don't bother with these things until you've somehow made it as a writer.
However that happens is a mystery of the ages, but I'm confident it's not by signing your unknown books and/or trying to strongarm booksellers to put your books on their shelves. If you want to do that, that's your business, but don't be surprised if you're just as unknown as you were before you did those things.
Work on your words. Yes, in isolation. Yes, away from adoring multitudes. That's how your work will improve. Hard work, endless reading, constant revision, careful editing, and smart marketing.
June 9, 2023
King Dethroned, Part 3
I think Stephen King faces the peril any hugely successful writer can face -- namely, that anything he writes can get published, acknowledged, and read, regardless of the quality of the work.
This is the opposite of the problem most writers face (beyond the self-published), and it's ironic because it's very much a "be careful what you wish for" type of scenario.
Most writers would dream of having the profile King has over his long writerly life. Most (as in nearly all) writers will never come close to that degree of literary prominence.
Now we know, and even King knows, that, as in his famous quote:
"I'm a salami writer. I try to write good salami, but salami is salami." ~Stephen King
King's the most successful salami writer we'll ever see, most likely (I don't count people like Patterson or Childs -- they're stupendously successful niche potboiler writers -- they don't have the cultural prominence King has had). He took salami writing as far as it could go.
Anyway, if/when a writer attains that sort of an arc, they cross a threshold where what they write doesn't matter anymore -- it'll get published because their name is so big that they get an automatic "yes" on their work.
Again, it's a dream most writers would wish for, but the result is that inferior work gets out there, and a writer loses their edge. It's actually yet another peril writers face.
King should have retired decades ago. Sure, he could still write, but he shouldn't have pushed out work that way, because it tarnished his reputation.
Readers find themselves having to make excuses for it -- there are the fanatics who like everything, no matter what -- but the rest? Not so much. There's an inertia that keeps sales going on some level, but you also see readers complaining when the work doesn't work for them.
A writer needs to know when their work isn't what it used to be, and when that happens, they need to either move more into a private writerly space, and/or take up some other activity to occupy themselves and hang it up.
For a former alcoholic and cocaine addict like King was, he's likely addicted to writing, too. I understand that drive to write, I really do. But there's also the need to know that one's work isn't what it used to be, and the need to step away. Or at least move into a place of writerly solitude again and confront one's work honestly -- retirement, in other words.
Only a deluded egomaniac thinks everything they write is fit to see the light of day. Hell, I have tons of fragments and even completed stories where I just didn't feel like they made the grade.
As an unknown and remarkably unsuccessful writer (certainly a major failure at audience-building), I have that luxury. I can just shake off works and not have any pressure to get them out there.
But someone like King, above and beyond his own writerly ego, has an entire publishing apparatus eager to get his work out there. It's almost predatory. Or maybe it IS predatory on the part of his publisher.
And it doesn't help readers, who get increasingly inferior works that they're being told by marketing and advertising that they're a must-read.
It's a macro-scale version of the problem with all the junk writers who are currently clogging Kindle Unlimited and indie in general, only it's made worse because King has actual success, and his footprint is massive, even as he ages.
I imagine Joe Hill, as his heir apparent, will have access to piles of manuscripts King's written, and will likely become the steward of his father's literary legacy, the way that Christopher Tolkien is with his own father's work. Maybe a little ghostwriting here and there, hoping that'll further raise his profile.
There'll be huge incentive to keep cranking out Stephen King work, and Joe Hill will think himself up to the task (personally, I don't think he is, but rank hath its privileges). The fact that Hill even chose to write reveals a lot about him. No doubt he absolutely thinks himself up to the task of handling his father's legacy.
King's work has been sunsetting for a long time, now, but the drive to continue making money on the work will prove overwhelming. At some point, it really will come down to:
Stephen King is dead; long live Stephen King!
One can expect more salami writing coming, and that's not baloney. Weirdly, it'll feel like a horror story, come to think of it....
This is the opposite of the problem most writers face (beyond the self-published), and it's ironic because it's very much a "be careful what you wish for" type of scenario.
Most writers would dream of having the profile King has over his long writerly life. Most (as in nearly all) writers will never come close to that degree of literary prominence.
Now we know, and even King knows, that, as in his famous quote:
"I'm a salami writer. I try to write good salami, but salami is salami." ~Stephen King
King's the most successful salami writer we'll ever see, most likely (I don't count people like Patterson or Childs -- they're stupendously successful niche potboiler writers -- they don't have the cultural prominence King has had). He took salami writing as far as it could go.
Anyway, if/when a writer attains that sort of an arc, they cross a threshold where what they write doesn't matter anymore -- it'll get published because their name is so big that they get an automatic "yes" on their work.
Again, it's a dream most writers would wish for, but the result is that inferior work gets out there, and a writer loses their edge. It's actually yet another peril writers face.
King should have retired decades ago. Sure, he could still write, but he shouldn't have pushed out work that way, because it tarnished his reputation.
Readers find themselves having to make excuses for it -- there are the fanatics who like everything, no matter what -- but the rest? Not so much. There's an inertia that keeps sales going on some level, but you also see readers complaining when the work doesn't work for them.
A writer needs to know when their work isn't what it used to be, and when that happens, they need to either move more into a private writerly space, and/or take up some other activity to occupy themselves and hang it up.
For a former alcoholic and cocaine addict like King was, he's likely addicted to writing, too. I understand that drive to write, I really do. But there's also the need to know that one's work isn't what it used to be, and the need to step away. Or at least move into a place of writerly solitude again and confront one's work honestly -- retirement, in other words.
Only a deluded egomaniac thinks everything they write is fit to see the light of day. Hell, I have tons of fragments and even completed stories where I just didn't feel like they made the grade.
As an unknown and remarkably unsuccessful writer (certainly a major failure at audience-building), I have that luxury. I can just shake off works and not have any pressure to get them out there.
But someone like King, above and beyond his own writerly ego, has an entire publishing apparatus eager to get his work out there. It's almost predatory. Or maybe it IS predatory on the part of his publisher.
And it doesn't help readers, who get increasingly inferior works that they're being told by marketing and advertising that they're a must-read.
It's a macro-scale version of the problem with all the junk writers who are currently clogging Kindle Unlimited and indie in general, only it's made worse because King has actual success, and his footprint is massive, even as he ages.
I imagine Joe Hill, as his heir apparent, will have access to piles of manuscripts King's written, and will likely become the steward of his father's literary legacy, the way that Christopher Tolkien is with his own father's work. Maybe a little ghostwriting here and there, hoping that'll further raise his profile.
There'll be huge incentive to keep cranking out Stephen King work, and Joe Hill will think himself up to the task (personally, I don't think he is, but rank hath its privileges). The fact that Hill even chose to write reveals a lot about him. No doubt he absolutely thinks himself up to the task of handling his father's legacy.
King's work has been sunsetting for a long time, now, but the drive to continue making money on the work will prove overwhelming. At some point, it really will come down to:
Stephen King is dead; long live Stephen King!
One can expect more salami writing coming, and that's not baloney. Weirdly, it'll feel like a horror story, come to think of it....
June 8, 2023
King Dethroned, Part 2
While I mentioned how so many of King's stories fall flat when pushed onscreen, in the interest of fairness, it's important to note ones that were, in fact, quite good.
Some of these, I think, are the result of having good directors who shape the story to fit the screen and bring out the best of his stories, versus ones who slavishly try to emulate the King story. There's a dance, there, and good/great directors are able to do it.
These aren't in anything but chronological order, as they're all good movies:
CARRIE (1976)
THE SHINING (1980)
CREEPSHOW (1982)
CHRISTINE (1983)
THE DEAD ZONE (1983)
STAND BY ME (1986)
MISERY (1990)
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION (1994)
THE GREEN MILE (1999)
THE MIST (2007)
GERALD'S GAME (2017)
DOCTOR SLEEP (2019)
I'd caveat that I didn't quite love DOCTOR SLEEP, but there are scenes in it that are fantastic, and it was an ambitious revisiting of THE SHINING world, so, I threw that one in. I threw CHRISTINE in there because John Carpenter made that one his own distinct movie in the adaptation.
Anyway, I think the above are some of the best King adaptations to screen. They hold up as movies on their own merits, and aren't as captive to the King story confines (e.g., small town New England folksy folks imbued with Baby Boomer bromides facing some nefarious supernatural monstrosity).
Obviously, any writer would be happy to have that many of their stories made into movies (clunkers or classics), but it's interesting to me why some King adaptations are actually good, and some stink.
Some people just love everything King does, but I don't. As I said in the other post, I haven't read anything of his since '87, so maybe my own view is somewhat jaundiced compared with his more ardent fans.
I guess, excepting DOCTOR SLEEP, there hasn't been any of his more recent work that's struck my fancy, so there it is. But the dozen above are all very solid movies sourced from his books.
When King finally dies, it'll be interesting to see what comes of that. He's created an enormous body of work, and there is nobody (sorry, Joe Hill) who will ever be King again, in terms of his writerly dominance of a particular genre.
Will the publishing industry cook up some diabolical union involving ghost writers and Joe Hill to continue writing Stephen King books after he's gone (conjuring up the specter of VC Andrews, here). I guess we'll find out.
But the money hole created by his passing will be significant, and publishing will have nobody able to fill it. Count on trad publishing doing the most cynical thing they can to keep that money train rolling for them.
Some of these, I think, are the result of having good directors who shape the story to fit the screen and bring out the best of his stories, versus ones who slavishly try to emulate the King story. There's a dance, there, and good/great directors are able to do it.
These aren't in anything but chronological order, as they're all good movies:
CARRIE (1976)
THE SHINING (1980)
CREEPSHOW (1982)
CHRISTINE (1983)
THE DEAD ZONE (1983)
STAND BY ME (1986)
MISERY (1990)
THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION (1994)
THE GREEN MILE (1999)
THE MIST (2007)
GERALD'S GAME (2017)
DOCTOR SLEEP (2019)
I'd caveat that I didn't quite love DOCTOR SLEEP, but there are scenes in it that are fantastic, and it was an ambitious revisiting of THE SHINING world, so, I threw that one in. I threw CHRISTINE in there because John Carpenter made that one his own distinct movie in the adaptation.
Anyway, I think the above are some of the best King adaptations to screen. They hold up as movies on their own merits, and aren't as captive to the King story confines (e.g., small town New England folksy folks imbued with Baby Boomer bromides facing some nefarious supernatural monstrosity).
Obviously, any writer would be happy to have that many of their stories made into movies (clunkers or classics), but it's interesting to me why some King adaptations are actually good, and some stink.
Some people just love everything King does, but I don't. As I said in the other post, I haven't read anything of his since '87, so maybe my own view is somewhat jaundiced compared with his more ardent fans.
I guess, excepting DOCTOR SLEEP, there hasn't been any of his more recent work that's struck my fancy, so there it is. But the dozen above are all very solid movies sourced from his books.
When King finally dies, it'll be interesting to see what comes of that. He's created an enormous body of work, and there is nobody (sorry, Joe Hill) who will ever be King again, in terms of his writerly dominance of a particular genre.
Will the publishing industry cook up some diabolical union involving ghost writers and Joe Hill to continue writing Stephen King books after he's gone (conjuring up the specter of VC Andrews, here). I guess we'll find out.
But the money hole created by his passing will be significant, and publishing will have nobody able to fill it. Count on trad publishing doing the most cynical thing they can to keep that money train rolling for them.
June 7, 2023
King Dethroned
I was amused to see this piece:
The 15 worst Stephen King movies and miniseries, ranked
Given King's stratospheric standing among popular writers, I've always felt that a lot of his books don't necessarily translate well on the screen.
I read him avidly when I was a teenager, but stopped after TOMMYKNOCKERS (1987) and never went back. I won't say I outgrew King, but merely that I moved on.
It always gnaws at me that one of my favorites is THE SHINING (1980), which he detests. Having read the book, I still think Kubrick masterfully conjured up a superior horror movie out of King's work.
And, in fact, the King-approved version of THE SHINING just aren't very good. King, having mastered success in popular fiction, doesn't quite translate onscreen (yes, there are exceptions -- another one I think that excelled was THE MIST [2007], which was full of King-isms but still managed to be legitimately excellent).
I'll have to think about which of his movies I thought were best (or at least the ones I enjoyed the most). There is an apples and oranges kind of scenario with his work -- what might play in a novel can be ludicrous onscreen.
His huge success as a writer likely gives him the feeling that he can push any story of his to the screen and have it work, but it's just not so.
Another thing about King is he's SUCH a Baby Boomer. His books are like an archive of Baby Boomerism, so, as a Generation Xer, I see that so clearly. When I was a teen, when the Boomer dominance of our culture was on the high ascendant, it didn't jump out at me so much, but these days, yeah.
And maybe that's a measure of his success -- he was a Boomer who spoke to Boomers in a language they understood and related to, at a time when novels were still a central part of popular entertainment (think about it -- King's rise was when there was no Internet, no cable TV -- books were still windows on the world back then).
Anyway, just musing. I'm not slagging King; I'm only observing that even hugely successful authors don't necessarily write stuff that effectively translates onscreen. For every critical and popular success he's had, there were tons of clunkers.
I may do more posts on this, pondering why, so stay tuned...
The 15 worst Stephen King movies and miniseries, ranked
Given King's stratospheric standing among popular writers, I've always felt that a lot of his books don't necessarily translate well on the screen.
I read him avidly when I was a teenager, but stopped after TOMMYKNOCKERS (1987) and never went back. I won't say I outgrew King, but merely that I moved on.
It always gnaws at me that one of my favorites is THE SHINING (1980), which he detests. Having read the book, I still think Kubrick masterfully conjured up a superior horror movie out of King's work.
And, in fact, the King-approved version of THE SHINING just aren't very good. King, having mastered success in popular fiction, doesn't quite translate onscreen (yes, there are exceptions -- another one I think that excelled was THE MIST [2007], which was full of King-isms but still managed to be legitimately excellent).
I'll have to think about which of his movies I thought were best (or at least the ones I enjoyed the most). There is an apples and oranges kind of scenario with his work -- what might play in a novel can be ludicrous onscreen.
His huge success as a writer likely gives him the feeling that he can push any story of his to the screen and have it work, but it's just not so.
Another thing about King is he's SUCH a Baby Boomer. His books are like an archive of Baby Boomerism, so, as a Generation Xer, I see that so clearly. When I was a teen, when the Boomer dominance of our culture was on the high ascendant, it didn't jump out at me so much, but these days, yeah.
And maybe that's a measure of his success -- he was a Boomer who spoke to Boomers in a language they understood and related to, at a time when novels were still a central part of popular entertainment (think about it -- King's rise was when there was no Internet, no cable TV -- books were still windows on the world back then).
Anyway, just musing. I'm not slagging King; I'm only observing that even hugely successful authors don't necessarily write stuff that effectively translates onscreen. For every critical and popular success he's had, there were tons of clunkers.
I may do more posts on this, pondering why, so stay tuned...
June 6, 2023
Cursed
When I wrote THE CURSED EARTH (last year; feels like a lifetime ago), it began as an exercise in Folk Horror -- I wanted to write a folk horror story. I was influenced by Ira Levin's work when I began putting my ideas down. He managed those wry stories with elements of shock and terror to them.
But I thought typical crops were done to death already, when it hit me that I could use mushroom farming as the earthbound agrarian activity that might cement the story.
The moment I had that, I had the story. It was right there. And when my research showed me that Pennsylvania is a major mushroom-farming state, it all unfolded in creating the fictional town of Lynchburg.
Things I didn't expect when writing it was when the Cosmic Horror and Horror Thriller components of it manifested themselves, making it more than just a Folk Horror story.
That was a happy evolution for me, because I think it made the work stronger than the original idea I had for it. Those other elements enriched the story the way components to a stew make it better.
Something else about that story is I wrote the first draft in 46 days! That's the fastest I've ever written a novel, and for a nearly 500-page book, that's lightspeed for me. In fact, the original draft was closer to 600 words, and I willfully sacrificed ~150 pages to get it to the right length. It's STILL a big book, but that's just how it shook out.
The confluence of subject and story propelled that one for me. I don't know if I'll ever write another book as quickly as that one. And I say that as a fast writer.
It's my masterpiece of indie horror, for sure. That said, it's not particularly scary. At least not for me. It is why I always call it a "cosmic folk horror comedy thriller" to adequately describe it.
There are elements of folk horror, cosmic horror, horror comedy, and horror thriller to it, but it's not a pure horror novel by any means. It's more fun than frightening the way a rollercoaster is intended to be more fun than frightening.
I don't apologize for this. It's a fun read. People read for fun, right? Isn't that the intention? I accomplished that with THE CURSED EARTH.
As I've said as a tagline, it puts the FUN in FUNGUS. And speaking of that, I'm proud of Fun Gus the Laughing Clown, who's the best killer clown this side of Pennywise. Fun Gus walked into that novel and stole scenes. I love him!
Although it wasn't my intention, my partner has told me that Fun Gus is the purest literary expression of myself in any story I've written, which makes me laugh.
I don't know if it's too big of a book for most attention spans these days, but I stand by it, and always will. I'm proud of it.
But I thought typical crops were done to death already, when it hit me that I could use mushroom farming as the earthbound agrarian activity that might cement the story.
The moment I had that, I had the story. It was right there. And when my research showed me that Pennsylvania is a major mushroom-farming state, it all unfolded in creating the fictional town of Lynchburg.
Things I didn't expect when writing it was when the Cosmic Horror and Horror Thriller components of it manifested themselves, making it more than just a Folk Horror story.
That was a happy evolution for me, because I think it made the work stronger than the original idea I had for it. Those other elements enriched the story the way components to a stew make it better.
Something else about that story is I wrote the first draft in 46 days! That's the fastest I've ever written a novel, and for a nearly 500-page book, that's lightspeed for me. In fact, the original draft was closer to 600 words, and I willfully sacrificed ~150 pages to get it to the right length. It's STILL a big book, but that's just how it shook out.
The confluence of subject and story propelled that one for me. I don't know if I'll ever write another book as quickly as that one. And I say that as a fast writer.
It's my masterpiece of indie horror, for sure. That said, it's not particularly scary. At least not for me. It is why I always call it a "cosmic folk horror comedy thriller" to adequately describe it.
There are elements of folk horror, cosmic horror, horror comedy, and horror thriller to it, but it's not a pure horror novel by any means. It's more fun than frightening the way a rollercoaster is intended to be more fun than frightening.
I don't apologize for this. It's a fun read. People read for fun, right? Isn't that the intention? I accomplished that with THE CURSED EARTH.
As I've said as a tagline, it puts the FUN in FUNGUS. And speaking of that, I'm proud of Fun Gus the Laughing Clown, who's the best killer clown this side of Pennywise. Fun Gus walked into that novel and stole scenes. I love him!
Although it wasn't my intention, my partner has told me that Fun Gus is the purest literary expression of myself in any story I've written, which makes me laugh.
I don't know if it's too big of a book for most attention spans these days, but I stand by it, and always will. I'm proud of it.
June 5, 2023
The Horror, The Horror
I saw a bit of a thread, people debating whether "Cozy Horror" exists, which struck me as absurd. There is no "Cozy Horror" -- the latter negates the former.
There may be people who seek some emotional/mental gratification from reading Horror, but Horror, to be Horror, must unsettle the reader, which is the opposite of coziness.
Give me a break, people. It's like my beef with the Twilight series, which sought to pull the fangs from vampires and make them all sparkly. Nonsense.
There are only two meaningful kinds of horror to me -- gory horror, and non-gory horror -- the former leans into tearing things apart to convey a sense of horror; the latter relies on atmosphere and vibe to terrify.
That's it. But both lanes are still out to horrify. They're not out to comfort, which is at the heart of any cozy lit. Sure, some people like to be scared, and find comfort in it, but it's the scares that sell horror, not the comfort.
Asinine. In this deeply postmodern age, people are apparently getting sniffy that they might actually be held accountable to genre tropes and standards in their works. Otherwise, what, exactly? Everything's whatever anybody wants it to be? That's bullshit.
It's like writing a story entitled "Ghost Story" and there's no ghost story in it. That fucks over the readers.
Hate to break it to people, but genres exist for a reason, and not everything gets to be labeled within a genre. Not everything is actually relevant, even if people want it to be.
Some slam people who draw those distinctions as somehow gatekeeping, but it's still more bullshit. Heavy Metal is Heavy Metal. Punk is Punk. Horror is Horror. Romances are Romances. Thrillers are Thrillers.
Things actually are what they are. I think there's a certain toxic blend of presumption and laziness among people who write whatever they want and then try to market it as something it's so clearly not, and then attack anyone for daring to call them out.
Blue is not red, but these days, I can totally see people getting enraged because someone points that out to them. Imagine it...
Roses are red
Violets are red, too
For trying to gatekeep my meta-narrative
I'm going to pillory you
This is a side effect of the battery acid of postmodernism.
There can be no "Cozy Horror" -- there's only gory and non-gory Horror, but Horror's gonna Horror. Deal with it. Don't try to reframe it to suit your inability to horrify readers and try to market that as legitimate.
There may be people who seek some emotional/mental gratification from reading Horror, but Horror, to be Horror, must unsettle the reader, which is the opposite of coziness.
Give me a break, people. It's like my beef with the Twilight series, which sought to pull the fangs from vampires and make them all sparkly. Nonsense.
There are only two meaningful kinds of horror to me -- gory horror, and non-gory horror -- the former leans into tearing things apart to convey a sense of horror; the latter relies on atmosphere and vibe to terrify.
That's it. But both lanes are still out to horrify. They're not out to comfort, which is at the heart of any cozy lit. Sure, some people like to be scared, and find comfort in it, but it's the scares that sell horror, not the comfort.
Asinine. In this deeply postmodern age, people are apparently getting sniffy that they might actually be held accountable to genre tropes and standards in their works. Otherwise, what, exactly? Everything's whatever anybody wants it to be? That's bullshit.
It's like writing a story entitled "Ghost Story" and there's no ghost story in it. That fucks over the readers.
Hate to break it to people, but genres exist for a reason, and not everything gets to be labeled within a genre. Not everything is actually relevant, even if people want it to be.
Some slam people who draw those distinctions as somehow gatekeeping, but it's still more bullshit. Heavy Metal is Heavy Metal. Punk is Punk. Horror is Horror. Romances are Romances. Thrillers are Thrillers.
Things actually are what they are. I think there's a certain toxic blend of presumption and laziness among people who write whatever they want and then try to market it as something it's so clearly not, and then attack anyone for daring to call them out.
Blue is not red, but these days, I can totally see people getting enraged because someone points that out to them. Imagine it...
Roses are red
Violets are red, too
For trying to gatekeep my meta-narrative
I'm going to pillory you
This is a side effect of the battery acid of postmodernism.
There can be no "Cozy Horror" -- there's only gory and non-gory Horror, but Horror's gonna Horror. Deal with it. Don't try to reframe it to suit your inability to horrify readers and try to market that as legitimate.
June 4, 2023
Bookish
Apologies in advance for the vague-blogging, but I was thinking about the work I've done, and the work I've yet to do, in terms of writing, and I had a kind of revelation the other day (very Gen X to say "a kind of revelation" I know).
But you've seen me grousing about all the junk writing that's clogging the publishing world, lamenting the sea of books out there for what's always been a minority of readers out there.
Standing out amid all of that is really difficult. It's like trying to sing a song (and be heard) in a cavern full of screaming people. It's just hard to stand out.
To succeed in my own writerly goals, I need to go where the majority of writers can't go. I need a way to stand out, and I think I have a way, at least with some of my projects.
Now, here's the apology part, because I'm not going to explain what I'm up to, project-wise, because I need to do the prepwork in relative peace and quiet. All I'll say if you're actually following this blog is you'll know it when you see it, will be like "Ah, THAT'S what he was alluding to before..."
I'm not one of those writers who basically liveblogs what he's working on. Just know that I'm pursuing some writing projects that I think'll raise my profile amid the torrent of other writers out there.
But you've seen me grousing about all the junk writing that's clogging the publishing world, lamenting the sea of books out there for what's always been a minority of readers out there.
Standing out amid all of that is really difficult. It's like trying to sing a song (and be heard) in a cavern full of screaming people. It's just hard to stand out.
To succeed in my own writerly goals, I need to go where the majority of writers can't go. I need a way to stand out, and I think I have a way, at least with some of my projects.
Now, here's the apology part, because I'm not going to explain what I'm up to, project-wise, because I need to do the prepwork in relative peace and quiet. All I'll say if you're actually following this blog is you'll know it when you see it, will be like "Ah, THAT'S what he was alluding to before..."
I'm not one of those writers who basically liveblogs what he's working on. Just know that I'm pursuing some writing projects that I think'll raise my profile amid the torrent of other writers out there.
June 1, 2023
Throwing the Books at'em
This is some rare good news from the world of publishing:
Book Sales Up as Books are Seen as Affordable Diversions
That makes me happy that those who read are apparently buying more books. The majority of people are still not reading much, but those who do read are buying more books.
No doubt people are getting burned out by streaming services and are needing some other form of distraction.
I know that books are a welcome means to unplug from the social medial maelstrom, so I imagine others are doing that, too.
Nice to see, hope it continues. I know I've seen an uptick of sales of my own books, and certainly more sales over the past few months than in a while, so, yay!
Hopefully people are enjoying my stories once they take the plunge and purchase them!
Book Sales Up as Books are Seen as Affordable Diversions
That makes me happy that those who read are apparently buying more books. The majority of people are still not reading much, but those who do read are buying more books.
No doubt people are getting burned out by streaming services and are needing some other form of distraction.
I know that books are a welcome means to unplug from the social medial maelstrom, so I imagine others are doing that, too.
Nice to see, hope it continues. I know I've seen an uptick of sales of my own books, and certainly more sales over the past few months than in a while, so, yay!
Hopefully people are enjoying my stories once they take the plunge and purchase them!
May 31, 2023
A Snake Eating Tale
I don't know what it is (okay, I suspect that it's the captivity of Hollywood to Wall Street money these days -- which leads to risk-averse studios who embrace retreads/remakes as what they consider a "safe" win for them) -- but OMG do they overdo it with the remakes.
It's like the cinematic snake eating its own tail, and it drives me bananas when done poorly and/or lazily. I think the capital costs of movie-making are so great that studios have been actively embracing rehashed efforts in hopes of a certain win.
The net result is boring, lackluster "entertainment" that fails to accomplish what the originals accomplished, using big money to bring big talent and snappy special effects to sell old stories.
As a movie lover, I'm always like "Please make NEW movies! The world needs new stories, not endless junky remakes!"
The stagnation of it is palpable, and I think it's rooted in that aforementioned risk aversion plaguing Hollywood. Commerce is prevailing over art, and the result is more blah than blockbuster.
Some movies that should never be remade (but probably will be someday, given how remake-rapacious Hollywood is) are:
BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA -- absolutely should never be remade, but may be at risk of it.
THE PARALLAX VIEW -- this one could not and should not be remade.
RAVENOUS -- likely safe from the risk of remake because it undeservedly flopped upon release, but it should definitely never be remade.
AMERICAN PSYCHO -- no way should this one be remade.
AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON -- again, a singular classic of the genre, should never be remade.
MAY -- another one that should never be remade. It's perfect as it is!
MULHOLLAND DRIVE (or, for that matter, any David Lynch movies -- I don't think anyone would actually risk doing that, but just in case)
An exception to my general hostility to remakes was THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020) -- that one did it right, in that they took an old Universal Monster(tm) and spun it into a new story that changed both the focus and the nature of the monster into something that was refreshingly innovative.
I suppose I don't object to remakes if the remake adds something new and interesting to an otherwise moribund franchise. It's just that I see ones that are simply retreads without adding anything new and interesting to it.
THE INVISIBLE MAN remake is a rare case of a remake done right, creating a genuinely harrowing movie. I'd even throw HOLLOW MAN (2000) into that category, and to lesser success -- but Verhoeven delivered a good faith remake with that one that kept to the scary aspects of invisibility.
In that vein, another decent remake, that in many ways exceeded the original, was THE FLY (1986). That was a case of a remake that took advantage of the gap in time between original and remake to deliver a genuinely original remake.
Another one I'd have to include would be THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1978) -- again, it was a remake that delivered. It didn't upstage the original, but offered its own contributions to that story.
But I still think Hollywood (and movie fans) are better served by more original works than a pile of remakes. Remakes can be done well, if enough care and attention is used on them, but I think the majority of them are just cowardly cash grabs by listless and lazy studios who don't want to take the chance on originality.
It's like the cinematic snake eating its own tail, and it drives me bananas when done poorly and/or lazily. I think the capital costs of movie-making are so great that studios have been actively embracing rehashed efforts in hopes of a certain win.
The net result is boring, lackluster "entertainment" that fails to accomplish what the originals accomplished, using big money to bring big talent and snappy special effects to sell old stories.
As a movie lover, I'm always like "Please make NEW movies! The world needs new stories, not endless junky remakes!"
The stagnation of it is palpable, and I think it's rooted in that aforementioned risk aversion plaguing Hollywood. Commerce is prevailing over art, and the result is more blah than blockbuster.
Some movies that should never be remade (but probably will be someday, given how remake-rapacious Hollywood is) are:
BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA -- absolutely should never be remade, but may be at risk of it.
THE PARALLAX VIEW -- this one could not and should not be remade.
RAVENOUS -- likely safe from the risk of remake because it undeservedly flopped upon release, but it should definitely never be remade.
AMERICAN PSYCHO -- no way should this one be remade.
AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON -- again, a singular classic of the genre, should never be remade.
MAY -- another one that should never be remade. It's perfect as it is!
MULHOLLAND DRIVE (or, for that matter, any David Lynch movies -- I don't think anyone would actually risk doing that, but just in case)
An exception to my general hostility to remakes was THE INVISIBLE MAN (2020) -- that one did it right, in that they took an old Universal Monster(tm) and spun it into a new story that changed both the focus and the nature of the monster into something that was refreshingly innovative.
I suppose I don't object to remakes if the remake adds something new and interesting to an otherwise moribund franchise. It's just that I see ones that are simply retreads without adding anything new and interesting to it.
THE INVISIBLE MAN remake is a rare case of a remake done right, creating a genuinely harrowing movie. I'd even throw HOLLOW MAN (2000) into that category, and to lesser success -- but Verhoeven delivered a good faith remake with that one that kept to the scary aspects of invisibility.
In that vein, another decent remake, that in many ways exceeded the original, was THE FLY (1986). That was a case of a remake that took advantage of the gap in time between original and remake to deliver a genuinely original remake.
Another one I'd have to include would be THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (1978) -- again, it was a remake that delivered. It didn't upstage the original, but offered its own contributions to that story.
But I still think Hollywood (and movie fans) are better served by more original works than a pile of remakes. Remakes can be done well, if enough care and attention is used on them, but I think the majority of them are just cowardly cash grabs by listless and lazy studios who don't want to take the chance on originality.
