George R. Shirer's Blog, page 69

A Review of Snow White & The Huntsman

Gentle readers, this afternoon I went and saw Snow White & The Huntsman, starring Kristen Stewart, Chris Hemsworth and Charlize Theron.
This movie has had a lot of good word of mouth reviews, and I was curious to see what it would be like. So, off I went to the theater.
The first thing to strike me about this movie had nothing to do with the actual film. Rather, it was the audience.  I have hardly seen such a diverse crowd attending a genre film.  There were senior citizens, teenagers, men, women, and children.  Shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversations around me, most were there because, like me, they had heard good reviews of the movie.
Sadly, I don't think the film deserves such glowing accolades.
Part of the problem with the movie is that the story is already so well known.  We all know how the film will end, even before we go into it.  The only thing that could shock us would be the path the writers took to get from A to Zed.  Sadly, instead of offering us something new and different, they stick to the tried and true. Sure, they give us a glimpse into the Evil Queen's motivations, and there's some nice CGI work with fairies, but otherwise? Dull. Boring. Predictable.
The performances are, likewise, nothing to write home about. 
Charlize Theron's Wicked Queen is dull. There is no genuine sense of menace from her, at all. Theron strides around a cold stone room, exuding all the life and vitality of a marionette.
Kristen Stewart's Snow White is even worse.  During the entire film, she delivers a one-note performance, that of a saintly princess who is about as interesting as a bowl of plain grits. She's pretty enough for the role, but there's nothing in the character to inspire men to fight for her.
Of all the cast, Chris Hemsworth's Huntsman is the only one given any opportunity to develop. That development, alas, is formulaic. 
The less said about the dwarves, the better.
Overall, Snow White & The Huntsman left me feeling bored and disappointed. The story is entirely predictable and the characters remain two-dimensional.
On a scale of one to ten, I would give Snow White & The Huntsman a three.  Save your money and wait for it to come out on Pay-Per-View or DVD.

Pimping!

Good morning, gentle readers.
This blog entry is a day late, 'cause it's hard to be a pimp.
Don't worry, I'm not running a string of prostitutes. I'm not selling sex, just trying to sell my book.
When you set foot on the indie author's path, there are a lot of things that you don't know when you start out. Like the degree of time you'll have to devote to promoting your writing.
Unless you've got bags of money, like that little guy from the Monopoly game, you can't afford to hire a reputable publicist to handle promotions.  You've got to do it yourself.
Which means using Twitter and Facebook to get the word out re your work. It means contacting ebook reviewers and websites that will promote your ebook.  Some indie authors with Facebook pages for their work, pay for targeted ads. I've heard of some using Google ads, as well.
It's a time consuming process, not for the faint of heart. I've heard from other indie authors how much they hate promoting their stuff.  No one seems to like doing it, but, depending on how well you want your book to sell, you have to do it.  It is a necessary evil.
Unfortunately, one can spend so much time pimping the stuff you've written, that it cuts into the time you'd normally spend writing new stuff. 
I've just released my first full-length novel, Dawnwind: Last Man Standing, and am starting on the sequel, at least, in my head.  I haven't had time to start physically writing it, because I spend a fair amount of my time promoting my earlier stuff!
There are rumors among indie authors, Internet legends whispered in the dark forums where we tend to congregate, of other indie authors who have Made It.  Writers who have achieved success marketing their books, leading to an almost supernatural groundswell of perpetual sales and thus, eliminating the need for them to do such intensive self-promotion.
I don't know if I believe this story, but if it's true, I really hope it happens to me.

Dawnwind: Last Man Standing

Gentle readers, my first full-length novel, Dawnwind: Last Man Standing, is now available for purchase exclusively through Amazon.com.

When the benevolent Junians came to Earth, they were shocked to discover humanity decimated by a worldwide pandemic.  They found only one survivor, a man named John Epcott. The Last Human.
When the Junians left Earth, John Epcott went with them.
This is his story.

Perseverance

Good afternoon, gentle readers.
Today's post has been delayed because of technical difficulties. Not on this end, mind you.  There's nothing wrong with my Internet connection and Blogger works as well as ever.
No, gentle readers, the fault lies not in ourselves, but in Smashwords.
This morning I discovered that my collection of superheroic short stories, "Capetales," had been denied entry to Smashwords Premium Catalogue because it lacks an NCX.  An NCX is "Navigation Control for XML."  In short, I have to add a chapter list and then do more coding.
Gentle readers, the life of an indie author is not for the weak or the lazy.  When you're not writing, you're promoting.  When you're not promoting, you're considering new venues.  Should I produce a physical book using Lulu or CreateSpace? Should I invest in targeted ads on Facebook? How do I get an indie e-book reviewed by a reputable source? One that doesn't expect to be paid?
Now, on top of all that, I have to add XML formatting to the mix.
Sometimes, I think I am completely nuts.  There are moments, gentle reader, when I am hunched over my laptop, face bathed in the screen's wan light, that I think I should chuck it all, get a job at Pizza Hut and say to hell with it all.  Just give up and live a life of quiet desperation like so many other people seem to do.
This morning was one of those times.  Discovering you have to do more formatting to your ebook, doesn't exactly encourage one to break out the party hats and champagne.
Still, I'll knuckle down and do it.
Because the alternative, letting the dream die, giving up and getting that job at Pizza Hut or (Heaven help me!) Hot Dog on a Stick would be too much bear.
Also, because all the good jobs at Hot Dog on a Stick have been taken by college graduates.

A Picture is worth a thousand words

My thanks to everyone who downloaded a copy of Firekeeper today.  If you haven't yet, the sale lasts until 11:59PM this evening, EST.

An Irritation

Gentle readers, I am in a mood.
Recently, when I published my collection of short stories, Surprise Vignettes, through Smashwords I completely forgot to opt out of distribution to Amazon using their Channel Manager.  I went back and opted out of Amazon, then sent off a quick query to Smashwords. 
Below is a copy of my original query sent in on May 21, 2012.

 Dear Smashwords,
I published a recent book and forgot to opt out of Amazon.com on the Channel Manager. I've gone back and since opted out, but I'm wondering how long it will be before the changes go into effect? Thanks in advance! - George R. Shirer

Today, roughly 72 hours later, I got this response from Smashwords.

Hi, George.
Thanks for your email. Actually we don't distribute to Amazon yet, so you don't need to worry about distribution to them.Best,
- Jane Doe
Smashwords Content Team

It has prompted me to go back to Smashwords and send them this complaint.
To whom it may concern, Earlier this month, I e-mailed a question to Smashwords. When I published my short story, Surprise Vignettes, at Smashwords, I forgot to opt out of Amazon distribution in the Channel Manager. I went back and opted out, but wanted to know, how long it would take Smashwords to update Amazon re this matter. Today, I received a very polite reply from one of your personnel, informing me that Smashwords does not distribute to Amazon. If that's the case, why is Amazon listed as an option in the Channel Manager? How did my ebook appear on Amazon? None of the metadata has been changed, so I don't believe it's been pirated. I know that you're backlogged, but I really don't appreciate the blythe, obviously wrong, answer I got from your staff.

Fiction: Harvard's Tale

HARVARD’S TALE
Harvard lived in a village, woven out of cobwebs by specially trained, giant spiders.  It was lovely for everyone, but the people who were afraid of spiders.A writer, Harvard wrote by moonlight.  Candlelight was too dangerous.  It would attract the dream-moths and Harvard needed his dreams.On market days, Harvard sold his stories.  He wrote about the legendary heroes: Jenny Kick, Neil-in-the-Graves, the Farstepper Twins.  They were very popular.  His customers came from as far away as Widow's Ledge and Brokedown Palace.Most of Harvard’s stories were sentimental rubbish, but writing them paid well.  And, in his heart of hearts, Harvard loved telling heroic tales.  He would have admitted it, if such sentiment wasn't unfashionable.  If he did admit it, he would be the laughingstock of the salons.  And if he was laughed out of the salons, Harvard would never have a chance with the lady he loved.Parisa was the prettiest girl in town.  She had hair as golden white as fairy-silk, midnight blue eyes, a button nose, rose-red lips. It was a pity that so pretty a girl had a heart as cold and hard as a gravestone.  Despite this, she had many suitors. If her flinty heart repelled them, her beauty compensated for it.  And her wealth more than compensated for any character defect.  At least, that's what some of her suitors whispered to each other, over glasses of wine in the Harlot's Rest.Harvard, alas, was genuinely smitten by Parisa.  She, of course, wouldn't look twice at him, in his dusty black clothes.  So, Harvard's love went unrequited, which, for a writer, can be the best kind of love to suffer. Suffering, after all, inspires.And, oh! How Harvard suffered!  How that suffering inspired him! He poured his heart into his stories, which became more delectable each day.  Like lovely cakes, his tales stuck to people.  They grew fat and happy off them.One market day, a man came to see Harvard.  A tall, thin fellow, sinister in a fashionable way.  His eyes were tawny, his ebon beard was oiled and scented.  He wore a suit of fine, scarlet silk. Around his neck, the stranger wore an enormous, white ruff. The stranger introduced himself as Sir Las.  He wished to hire Harvard, to commission a series of stories for the Flying Court.  Harvard was thrilled and said yes without learning the details of the commission.  Too quickly, he committed himself.The poor fool.Heroes were out of fashion. In fact, the Flying Circus thought the old stories were dangerous. Harvard was hired to rewrite them, to turn them into comedies.  He balked, tried to get out of the commission, but it was impossible. No one with any sense refused the Flying Court.So, he sat and rewrote the old tales.  And with every letter he put on paper, Harvard's soul withered just a little bit more.  And for every story he finished, the Flying Circus paid Harvard a purse of gold.He grew quite wealthy off his work. By the time he was done, Harvard was rich. Rich enough to catch the notice of his infatuation, the hardhearted Parisa. Rich enough to buy a fine web-house in the nice part of time, rich enough to stop writing.  After what he had done, turning his heroes into laughingstocks, Harvard thought that might be best.He put down his pen and became a recluse.  Every night, he sat in his back yard, with a lit candle to lure the dream-moths to him.  Harvard did not want his dreams anymore. He let the moths feast on them.  Over time, Harvard became as dull and drab as a funeral shroud.  He did not care for anything, so did not notice the stirrings around him.  The brimstone stench of Revolution drifting on the air.The Flying Court's sabotage of the heroic tales had backfired.  They had gone too far, incensing the common man.  War erupted.It did not last long. The Flying Court fell, the courtiers' heads separated from their necks by the executioner's axe.Sir Las was offered a deal.  He would be spared the axe in exchange for the name of the man who had mutilated the old stories.He gave them Harvard.  Pleased, the Revolutionaries kept their word.  Sir Las was spared the axe.  Instead, they hung him with a fine hemp rope.Parisa had fallen in with the Revolutionary crowd, more out of self-preservation than honest outrage.  She led the mob that stormed Harvard's house, that carried him off to a makeshift gallows in the town's square.  They meant to hang him, then and there.  As he was led to the noose, Parisa asked, "Do you have anything to say?"Harvard looked at the woman he had once loved.  "Yes," he said, very softly.  "I do have a story I'd like to tell."Standing on the gallows, the noose around his neck, Harvard spoke softly and plainly.  He told about his life, writing stories about the heroes, the salons and his hypocrisy.  After confessing his love for Parisa, to defaming the heroes for the Flying Court,  Harvard expressed his regrets.  And even though he spoke softly, Harvard's words were heard by everyone in the square.  Eyes glittered with unshed tears.  Only Parisa remained unaffected."Hang him," she ordered, when Harvard had finished his tale.And they did.After a time, the Revolution burned itself out.  Things went back to normal. Or as normal as they could after so much spilt blood and shed tears.Only, in the village of Web, on market days, there was something different.  One stall was kept empty.  A reminder of a good man who made a rash agreement and foolishly kept his word.

Sex

Hello, gentle readers.  You might want to send the kiddies out of the room, because today, we're going to talk about sex. 
A lot of people have hangups about sex.  Not just writing it, but reading about it and discussing it.  Some people think the subject is inappropriate for a general audience.  Others find that writing about it makes them uncomfortable.  Some wonder about the necessity of including it in a story.  Too few, in my humble opinion, don't worry about writing a good scene.
The appropriateness of sex in your writing, depends largely on who you're writing for.  Obviously, sex is inappropriate for a juvenile audience.  If you're writing something aimed at teens, sex should exist, but it shouldn't be presented on the page.  The act, if a part of the story, should happen off-stage.
The appropriateness of sex in works aimed at an adult audience depends entirely on the story and, to a lesser degree, the genre.  Generally speaking, I believe a less is more approach works best for most stories.
But what if you've reached a point in your writing, where a sex scene seems appropriate, but you're not comfortable writing it?  What do you do?
In an earlier post, I encouraged writers to write what they like.  Here, I'm going to encourage writers to write what they feel comfortable with.  If you're not comfortable writing about sex, then don't write about it.  It's as simple as that.
But let's say that you're comfortable writing about sex.  It doesn't make you blush or squirm (except in a good way) to set fingers to keyboard and write a scene set between the sheets. Or against a wall, as the case may be. 
Please, write something worth reading. 
If your scene is boring, if it doesn't take the reader into your characters' minds, why bother writing it at all?  Just skip to the aftermath and the pillow talk. 
Also, if you're writing about sex, know what you're writing about.  If your character is an S&M submissive, and you don't have experience with the lifestyle, do your research! 
Finally, let's talk about writing porn.  A lot of publishers and authors try to avoid this niche by saying that they produce 'erotica.'  They're fooling themselves.  If the majority of your story contains sex, you're writing porn.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with writing porn.  In the past, writing porn has been profitable. It can be a great way to learn the business of writing, of satisfying the wants and needs of an editor/publisher. On a personal level,it can be a lot of fun, sharing your fantasies with the world.
However, because every Tom, Dick and Harriet these days seems to be writing porn, it's not as lucrative as it once was.  The Internet has leveled the playing field.  Most of the written porn available on the Internet is, to be blunt, awful.  A lot of it reads like it was written by illiterate, teenage virgins who've never gotten past first base.
If you're going to write porn then do everyone a favor and write good porn.  Edit your stuff like you would anything else you write.  Check your spelling and grammar.  And, if you're writing gay or lesbian porn, give your characters different appearances and very different names.  Nothing is more irritating than reading porn and trying to figure out which of the two hot blondes is licking the other.