What's the Name of That Book??? discussion
► UNSOLVED: One specific book
>
Short Story collection. Viewers at home could feel what the actor experienced. Female star is stuck in TV contract, forced to swim with sharks, etc. (Before reality TV was popular.) Read around 1995-1999. Spoiler ahead.
date
newest »
newest »
message 1:
by
Danielle
(new)
Dec 24, 2021 11:49PM
I would like to remember the book that was a collection of short stories. The one that stood out to me was about a girl who was stuck in a contract with tv producers to be the star of a reality tv show where viewers at home could feel what she feels. She was forced to swim with sharks, etc. In the end, I believe she kills herself because there is no escape from this life. I read this between 1995-1999. Can anyone help me?
reply
|
flag
I've read it, but can't come up with a name right now.
"What Do the Simple Folk Do ...?" (1979) by Alan Dean FosterShort story in ...Who Needs Enemies?
You should also get With Friends Like These...
Mod
@justanotherbibliophile Thank you but unfortunately that is not the same story. Case still open.
The Wilhelm story has been collected several times, listed here http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/pl.cgi?2...
@Andy that sounds way more familiar. In my memory, the story was more from the actress perspective and she committed suicide in the end. But maybe I’m remembering wrong. I will give it a read and see if this hits the mark. Thank you and Merry Christmas.
Wilhelm is available: https://loa-shared.s3.amazonaws.com/s...Has 'transmits emotion'.
No suicide in-story, but threatening suicide (to get out of the life).
Has mention of sharks:
That airplane crash, not bad, just enough to terrify me. Then the
sharks. I really do think it was having sharks brought in when I was
skiing that did it, Herb. You see, you will kill me. It will happen,
and you won’t be able to top it, Herb. Not ever
Contract given little play:
You knew that when you signed the contract.
...
She wasn’t listening. Almost dreamily she said, “I talked to my
lawyers, Herb, and the contract is meaningless. You’ve already
broken it over and over.
The 'can't leave the life' is due to the scientist deciding to mislead her about the technology (always-on emotional recording) being unable to be removed.
Thanks for bringing this one to my attention, very good read.
----
For record my suggestion has these bits:
"First off," Don began seriously, "people are sophisticated enough to tell the difference between robots and real actors, David. No robot can writhe like a man in pain, or bleed as realistically, or cry as convincingly, no matter how well he's programmed. And when the audience votes for a man to die, well, he has to die, doesn't he? We get them to the resurrection chambers on time. The fatality rate is very low, lower than for construction workers. It's in every contract.
"Dave, I want you to void my contract!"
"That's all?" He leans back into the lounge, which shifts to adjust to his new configuration. "You know I haven't got the power to do that, Slappy. It takes a majority vote of the board. The next contract session is three weeks off, yet."
"Look at me, Dave. Take a good look." He backs off, swings into a comical clown-dance.
"Happy flappy Slappy Williams! Notice anything amiss with the image, Dave? If the odor of scotch carried over the tri-vee I'd have been cancelled months ago. Want to know why I look like this? A touch different from the promising young comedian you signed eight months ago? God, only eight months!"
...
For God's sake, when they write me out of the series, they'll get rid of me with every trick in the book! There'll be no limits, since I won't have to show up for next week's work. I can't take that, don't let-"
"I know what it means, goddamn it!" explodes David. "You think I like it? But you knew what it meant when you signed that contract, too! What the holy hell do you expect me to do, man?"
"You've got to do something, Dave!" he screams painfully. "I won't live through it, I know I won't! I can't take that kind of pain! For God's sake, Dave!"
[later]
"By the way, did you happen to catch the 'Slappy Williams Hour' this evening?"
"No. Why? I was soused from late afternoon on."
"Great show, great! Real trouper, that guy. They bowed him out according to voter demand. Finished by choking a full-grown lion to death with his own body. Hysterical! Laugh index was over eighty-five. Unfortunately there wasn't enough left for the resurrectors to work on. His own fault. Didn't handle it well. They think he might have been drugged at the time. Too bad."
"I think, lad, that we've found the girl for that new spy series. Say hello to Oriel Vanity." David looks up. The girl has the face of a madonna and the body of a succubus. Red hair flows into a curved frame around an innocent face that hides little of it. He stares for a long time before rising embarrassedly to his feet.
"A series contract is an unimaginably vital document these days, you know. Like the contracts for indentured servants hundreds of years ago."
"Never mind contract. How about a little contact?" She silences him with a twisting kiss and he returns it enthusiastically. But it is he who breaks the clinch andagain finds fascination in the dark ceiling.
"Oriel, I can't let you sign that contract."
"I'm fully aware of what I'll be asked to do. I'm also aware that it's only a three-year contract. I can quit at the end of that period, with more money than I'll be able to spend the rest of my life. I'm not afraid of what I expect. It can't be as bad as you make it out to be."
"Send her" The door bursts open. "Well, Oriel. I haven't seen you in some months. How's the show doing?"
She looks haggard and drawn, hair disarrayed.
The beauty is still there, untouched. The cancer is inside. He knows.
He's seen it before.
"David, you've got to help me!"
"So?"
"The ratings have been fluctuating like crazy for weeks now! One Friday they're in the top five, the next we barely make the top fifty. But that's not what bothers me. David, they added a new co-star last week! A girl!"
"I know the girl. Very attractive."
"Her talent's in her tits. David, I'm afraid that... they're going to replace me with her."
No sharks:
Once in the bed he takes a long sip from the frosted glass and flips channels. He tries several, stops, and backs up slowly until the set locks on one he has already passed. A kicking, screaming, half-naked girl is being dragged down wet stone stairs by two gentlemen who are far removed from the well groomed. It is Oriel. He stops sipping the beer. She is strapped down to a long table in a dungeonlike room filled with medieval torture instruments. The camera lingers lovingly over each while one of the men helpfully expounds on their history and uses from offscreen. The angle changes to reveal a brawny individual clad only in jeweled loincloth. He is standing next to a glowing brazier, stirring the coals with a short iron rod. Oriel's writhings and squirmings are very convincing.
Mod
What's the Name of That Book???
Books mentioned in this topic
With Friends Like These... (other topics)...Who Needs Enemies? (other topics)
