Jealous Hater Book Club: Handbook For Mortals Chapter 2 The Hermit or “Cifnaf annataz””

So, in Handbook For Mortals news, brace yourselves, because there is a lot. If you need a break, I encourage you to visit author Claribel Ortega’s Tumblr, where she’s writing an excellent Handbook For Mortals fanfic.

So, remember when Lani Sarem insisted that no one gamed the system, that her books weren’t bulk-ordered, that she played by the rules and was viciously robbed of her legitimate success by jealous haters? She hasn’t exactly changed her tune, but she’s definitely singing her sad song of lies in a different key. In an op-ed for Billboard.com, she writes:

If I had purchased the books directly from my distributor, Itasca Books, they would not count as sales for purposes of the New York Times list. If they were purchased from booksellers — brick and mortar or online — they would count. While I didn’t limit my purchases to only those booksellers involved in the Times list, I did purchase books in bulk from booksellers to resell them later at events.

But it’s not a scam, she argues. It’s publishing’s antiquated model that constrains artists that’s at fault for her con game:

What I have chosen to do is to build a community of interrelated fans at these 3D, real-time events. This is part of what I believe is an innovative strategy — one that is aimed at building an entire new franchise in the Hunger Games and Game of Thrones mold, yet without having to give up creative control and a huge cut of the revenue to some synergistic studio giant a la Disney or Fox.

What Sarem is describing here is indie publishing and indie film. It isn’t new or innovative to bring your book to a convention. Self-pub authors do it all the time. And it isn’t new or innovative to make a movie without a studio.

Sarem concludes by saying that she hopes the New York Times will return her book to its rightful #1 slot on their list, albeit with their bulk-sales indicator. But perhaps the most delusional part of her piece is that despite the laughably bad writing, lack of any major star attached to the project, and the total bungling of her brilliant con, Sarem still appears to believe that she’ll be starring in a major film franchise:

That is why we published the book with the film rights already in place, set to produce the first of up to five “Handbook for Mortals” films that will star, in the lead role, yours truly, alongside my producer and co-star, Thomas Ian Nicholas. If all goes well.

However, one amazing thing has come to light in the wake of allegations that Sarem wrote the infamous troll fic My Immortal. It has brought the actual author of My Immortal out of the shadows, and she has a memoir in the works. Because the story is too fascinating to be believed, I won’t say too much here, except that rarely has an internet mystery had such a satisfying and heart-wrenching conclusion.

As Sarem continues to name-drop her connection to various celebrities, especially her former ties to the band Blues Traveler (who fired her), let’s all sing a beautiful ode in her honor, to the tune of the band’s hit, “The Hook”:

It doesn’t matter what you sell

So long as you sell at conventions

It’s such a freakin’ unique way

To make the headlines through deception

And it’s not fair that you lost face

To all those nasty trolls and haters’ campaign

The New York Times should apologize

You’ll take that asterisk and tout it without shame

‘Cause the book brings you fame

From a spot you had to buy

The book brings you fame

You got caught because you lied

The YA world is gonna miss

The stellar prose you tried to bring them

Who wouldn’t want to read another teen witch

Who’s old enough to rent a car

You could have just written a screenplay

And shopped it around to your famous friends

When your biggest names are ’90s stars

Maybe a scam was the way to go

‘Cause the film won’t get made

With the guy from American Pie

The film won’t get made

Here’s a camera you can buy

Con and win, con and win, con and win

That’s the position that you are in

If they find out all the ways you sinned

There’s always blame to pin on the community

At least you get publicity

“A lot of folks are jealous of me”

You’ll just project your problems on the trolls

Go ahead and take somebody’s art all for yourself

Stage pictures of your books up on some shelves

You tried

Now change your name and hide

From the critics who deride and all the deceptions that you tried. Your career is fried,

it died, you killed it with your lies

And all the claims that we won’t buy

about the bullies at the New York Times

You said fuck all the rules

they don’t apply to Lani

That shit might fly in music

It’s much harder to sleaze your way into YA

You’re pissed that none of us wanna kiss your ass,

we pass

And we don’t want to read you

Act innocent and victimized

To try to make a buck

With names to drop, like Mall Cop

You’re delusional please stop because we’re

Not buying your crap

It’s embarrassing to watch

You fail

Please don’t bother to try

My apologies to John Popper for mangling his rhyme scheme.

Now, on to the recap!

 When last we met, Lani had just concluded a triumphant performance of an illusion that won’t impress anyone who sees it. Now, she’s fallen asleep while waiting for Beth to return with human resources paperwork. That is, she’s fallen asleep in the house, where all of the cast and crew are hanging out for some reason.

This is another theater thing that doesn’t happen. In fact, I’ve done shows at theaters where cast and crew weren’t allowed in the house unless they were specifically doing work there or it was a part of the show. It’s definitely not a place that’s cool to just hang out in between or before performances. And definitely, you would not want to be discovered sleeping in a seat while everyone else is working.

But this is Lani we’re talking about, so:

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” Cam said softly after lightly touching my shoulder and sitting down next to me. “It looked like you met everyone that works here today. The line to say hello to you after your performance resembled an autograph signing by a boy band. I don’t really know what the latest one is, but Backstreet, Five Directions, One Second of Winter, 98 Celcious, O-City, NSYNC Boys or Old Kids on a Curb or something like that.”

If comedy follows a rule of three, then a rule of seven should make this dialogue twice as hilarious!

She also reads tarot cards and her father is also a stage magician with actual magical powers and oh my god, this is DCU fanfic with Zatanna made up like Suicide Squad Harley Quinn and for some reason Madame Xanadu is her mom.

 

The entire theater was watching me. I could hear whispering. I was used to some of that from where I grew up, but even so I wanted to melt into the floor.

Of course, when the people back home were whispering about her, they were whispering about how gorgeous and kind she was.

Lani agrees to Charles’s condition, and the whole kerfuffle is settled. For them. Because it still isn’t settled for the reader. The fight solved nothing and made nothing about the plot more plausible. In fact, having a character acknowledge stuff like OSHA and safety regulations, then presenting the reader with a solution that doesn’t actually work only drives home the fact that nothing in the scene makes sense. You can’t acknowledge that something doesn’t work, then make it not work and just hope that everyone will go along with it not working.

Charles tells Zade to come to his office, then casually tosses off that they’ll be cutting his girlfriend’s act to fit Lani’s in because of course that’s what he’s going to do.

Sofia, who had been standing off to the side with another performer, looked indignantly at Charles. I watched her redden, as her eyes got wide. She looked as if she was going to kill someone. I wondered if that someone was Charles or me–or maybe both of us. She gave me one terrible death stare, so I’m guessing it was me, before storming up to Charles.

“You’re cutting my main illusion?” she huffed angrily.

So, after the huge diva fit we just saw Lani throw at Mac, we’re not expected to accept Sofia in the role of Carlotta in this particular horror-show production of Phantom of the Copperfield?

Charles met her gaze and raised his eyebrows just slightly. I could tell that she didn’t intimidate him.

Maybe she’s 5’5″.

Everything was always on his terms, including his relationships. I doubt the word “compromise” was in his vocabulary.

How would Zani possibly know this? Again, she met the guy like an hour ago. Tops.

Charles walked closely to her, stroked her face, and took her hand in his. I’m guessing it was meant to be loving, but looked more like he was brushing her off.

Obviously, Charles doesn’t love Sofia. Who could possibly love her, when she is so clearly being set up as the vapid bitch of this piece? And we already know that in stories like this, only one woman gets love, and that woman is the author main character.

Charles tells Sofia that he’s going to work on another illusion for her to be in, then walks away and takes Zade with him. After once again noting that everyone has been staring at her, Zade reminds us that everyone is staring at her:

I could feel everyone watching us as we walked toward his office offstage.

Look, Lani, if you could just stop being so pretty, kind, humble, blue-haired, tough, and talented, this wouldn’t be a problem. But thanks for the heads up about his office being offstage. I thought his fucking desk was like, right in the middle of that water tank.

As we approached his office door no one said anything until they heard the door thud to a close. It was a big heavy door that made a hard pounding noise when it shut, and then I was alone with him.

Again, POV skew. If the door is so big and heavy, she can’t possibly know if people started talking after it shut. Also, let’s appreciate the fact that his office is literally right offstage. They’re on the stage, they walk off the stage, and they’re in his office. I can’t even begin to imagine what this fucking theater looks like. It’s in the round, with legs and tabs over the entrances to the stage that negate the point of theater in the round in the first place, and then directly offstage is an office.

I’m going to draw a floorplan of this monstrosity before this recap is over.

In the office, Charles tells her to sit down.

He was facing the wall, but he spoke deliberately. “Well, my dear. Tell me everything.”

Why is he facing the wall? Is this like, “I want him to face out of the window like Christian Grey on the movie poster, but I can’t because they’re inside a theater inside a casino,” or something? Because all I’m imagining is a Sims character glitching and trying to go through a door that’s been removed.

That’s the way the chapter ends, by the way. With Charles saying “Tell me everything.” So I cannot wait to get to the next chapter to find out how Lani gets out of this mess!