Opinionated Speculations | A Deal With The Devil?

So the press were all over George R. R. Martin in advance of HBO's hugely anticipated of A Game of Thrones, and needless to say, after starving for years on occasional tidbits of news from Not A Blog, when it rained, as the pilot's airdate approached, it poured.

In fact it poured such that a few comments well worth further discussion were rather lost in the downpour provoked by certain provocative pieces, which I'll comment on no further than to say: what utter bloody nonsense.

To wit, then, an incidental bit from The Guardian's chat with the man who would be king.

"Hopefully, the last two books will go a little quicker than this one has, but that doesn't mean they're going to be quick," says Martin. "Realistically, it's going to take me three years to finish the next one at a good pace. I hope it doesn't take me six years like this last one has. I have a million ideas. I have some other novels I want to write. I have a lot of short stories – I love the short story. But I've got to finish this first and then I'll decide what I'm inspired by at that point. If I'm not in some old folks' home." And if he is, no doubt his fans will be haranguing him even there.

I've bolded what particularly interests me from that paragraph. Which is to say, George R. R. Martin wants to be writing other things than A Song of Ice and Fire. And oh, how I wish he could!

Because it's a deal with the devil, isn't it? The series. The saga. On the one hand, real breakthrough success in speculative fiction only seems to come with multi-volume opuses like The Wheel of Time, The Malazan Book of the Fallen and The Kingkiller Chronicles. What is, for some, and will be for others, a lifetime's work. Rarely does a book from a mere trilogy hit The New York Times' list of bestsellers, after all, and still less often will you see self-contained science-fiction or fantasy sell half as well. For speculative fiction to stand a chance of such widespread success, all indicators point to volume seven or eleven of such and such a series being a more likely prospect for bestseller status than even new China Mieville... for what is really no better reason than inertia, as I see it.

Though I expect some might take me to task on that.

Anyway, whatever the cause and effect, that's a pretty darned shady state of affairs. Variety is the spice of life - surely we can agree on that - and while one understands that the industry must supply as demand dictates, the import it puts on sequels and series, and so the dispersal of the same marketing dollars that might help elevate a standalone novel to the realms of runaway success... that over-valuation, and not just on the part of the publisher, serves to stifle innumerable other avenues of genre literature.

Take a minute and think of all that could have been.

What, for instance, might J. K. Rowling have written if she hadn't spend a decade and change on Harry Potter? Or Robert Jordan if The Wheel of Time hadn't taken over his writing life?

Loathe though I am to even mention Robert Jordan, I do so for a dual purpose: both to illustrate the question I'm asking here - shouldn't authors be able to write what they want rather than what readers are seen (and indeed heard) to want? - and equally to demonstrate what happens when an author doesn't acquiesce to the demands of certain elements of his or her readership. For instance when an author has the gall to "pull a Jordan."

You've heard the phrase said, haven't you? Needless to say it's disgusting; absolutely sickening. For the innocents out there, it means to die before you've finished telling your tale, and I'm with George R. R. Martin on this, when he says in The Independent (via a message board post on Fantasy Faction) that "anyone who uses that phrase... is an asshole."

But for all that, it's used often enough. In fact of late, and here we come full circle, it's been put to the aforementioned author as regards A Song of Ice and Fire, a series which George R. R. Martin has spent 15 years of his life writing as is. And of course the guy's getting on - what of it?

It's a credit to the gent that he's as dedicated as he is to the series in question. "I have a million ideas," he writes. "I have some other novels I want to write. I have a lot of short stories – I love the short story. But I've got to finish this first." The long and short of which is, he's 62, it's taken him five years to write the last two volumes of A Song of Ice and Fire, and he's prioritising this one narrative over all the others he'd like to write largely to satisfy the unfathomable sense of entitlement certain very vocal readers feel. Because "nothing is as savage as a horde of starved fantasy fans."

Well, I say: the hell with them.

We all know I've not yet read A Game of Thrones - though I'm loving the HBO series based on the book thus far - but I have read, and adored, Fevre Dream, Dreamsongs and many of Martin's recent anthology contributions. Perhaps I'd feel differently if I'd spent several years on tenterhooks, waiting to see what Winter finally brings, but... you know, I doubt it. All stories are created equal. That these days some stories seem more equal than others is perhaps a truth, but a harsh truth, and a sad one - symptomatic of a very specific problem in a very specific area of very specific era and we're going to need to get over it quick smart, guys. Because it's just as wrongheaded as heads come.

Or are we - I shudder to think - thus entitled? Was that the bargain struck?

Clearly, I don't think so. I believe authors should be able to write what they want when they want rather than writing to a timetable dictated by the whims of what a particular sphere of readers are seen and indeed heard to want. Surely this pressure George R. R. Martin feels should not exist. Surely the vitriol he's been on the receiving end of, simply for taking a little longer than usual to put out A Dance With Dragons, is as outright unreasonable a thing as getting angry at scientists for not curing cancer a bit quicker.

What do you think?

One the one hand you have your sequels and sagas, which come hand in hand with the shot at mainstream success apparently inherent in such things, and on the other you have the freedom to write whatever you please on your own timetable, to no guarantee of sales or even much in the way of support from your publisher. Are these trade-offs fair? Or do I sound like a child here, worrying about what's fair and what's not?

In short, is this particular deal with the devil worth the paper it's written on, far less the blood price of signing the hellish thing?

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Source: The Guardian

Screen Shot | Silent Hill Set Revelation

/Film have showcased some photography of a pivotal set from the upcoming film Silent Hill: Revelation 3D.

I'm a mite late on this, but what with all the fuss about A Game of Thrones on HBO, and then those dastardly pirates, I thought it could wait. The movie's not going to be done till next year anyway.

But that doesn't mean we can't ogle a few of the early sets, and wonder together whether this sequel to what is in my opinion the best video game to movie adaptation ever is going to end up gorgeous or garbage... or gorgeous garbage.

We can check off gorgeous, if these long-exposure shots by photographer Sara Collaton are anything to go by. Certainly they document a few rather impressive sets; impressive in a perfectly creepy kind of way, of course, as fairgrounds are wont to be after-hours - and growing up right next door to a big ol' park the carnies would hit every couple months, this thing I know for fact - and very auspicious they are. Moreover, they indicate the filmmakers mean to hold true to the movie's inspiration, which is to say Silent Hill 3.

That's the one with Heather in: Heather, the daughter of Harry Mason, the player character in the first Silent Hill. The first Silent Hill video game, I mean.

Anyhow, the cast is certainly promising. From the first film, Rahda Mitchell and Deborah Kara Unger are set to return alongside franchise newcomers Carrie-Anne Moss and Malcolm McDowell. And would you look at that! Why, it's only Sean bloody Bean again! Both as his character from the original, and also Harry?

Wait, what?

Don't look at me: I don't have a clue how that's going to work. Am I missing some pivotal thing, maybe?

But I digress. I'm much more concerned about the talent behind the camera than in front of it, in any event. With the decidedly dodgy horror of Deathwatch behind him, and late of the very genre void Solomon Kane was, Michael J. Bassett is both writing and directing this second Silent Hill film. And that... that doesn't exactly fill me with confidence, I fear.

So is Silent Hill: Revelation 3D going to be guff? Or does it stand to inherit the mantle of Best Video Game to Film Adaptation from its divisive predecessor?

Or would you perhaps take issue with my premise? I make no bones about it: as an absolute devotee of the video games, I utterly adored the first Silent Hill film. But I hear a lot of folks disagree...

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Source: /Film

News Flashing | The Shining 2: Who Knew?

This March, Stephen King made the news. Twice.

The first time, it was to announce his next annual novel. 11.22.63 will be along in early November, and it's another brick of a book; a tome like Under the Dome which seems to be King's spin on The Time Traveller's Wife, and The Lake House.

So the story goes, English teacher Jake Epping is transported "from a world of mobile phones and iPods to a new world of Elvis and JFK, of Plymouth Fury cars and Lindy Hopping, of a troubled loner named Lee Harvey Oswald and a beautiful high school librarian named Sadie Dunhill, who becomes the love of Jake's life - a life that transgresses all the normal rules of time."

When news of 11.22.63 broke, you didn't even have to listen particularly closely to hear the arching of certain critics' eyebrows, which was, in and of itself, pretty sickening. Me? I'll reserve judgement till I've actually read the book. And you can be sure I'll read it; that's pretty much a given. Short a few years' time out from King's work when I foolishly let the aforementioned critical snobbery that seems to cling to this author like bad gas get the better of me, I've always read Stephen King. Probably I always will.

But here's hoping his next isn't all mouth and no trousers like Under the Dome.

I suppose if it is, there's always his next next novel. Because within the week, King had trumped himself, announcing The Dark Tower: The Wind Through the Keyhole on his official website [wiki]. Set between Wizard and Glass and Wolves of the Calla, the notion of this lost chapter in the life and times of Roland Deschain moves me perhaps less than by all rights it should, for I have read all seven volumes of The Dark Tower... though I fell increasingly out of love with the series as it approached its endgame.

I don't have particularly much to say about The Wind Through the Keyhole, either. So why the post? You must be wondering. Well, here's why.

In short, once King has polished off The Dark Tower 4.5, it's looking pretty bloody likely that Doctor Sleep will be his - wait for it - next next next project. And what is Doctor Sleep?

"Now aged 40, [Danny Torrance] works at a hospice for the terminally ill in upstate New York. He is... an orderly at the hospice, but his real work is to help make death a little easier for the dying patients with his psychic powers – while making a little money on the side by betting on the horses."

So The Shining 2: Shine Harder. Or maybe Son of The Shining - that'd be pretty apt.

What. The. Fuck.


Probably I've made my feelings as regards such a sequel clear as crystal already, but let's make doubly sure: I think it's a terrible idea.


Why? Well, because we're talking about a classic here. A veritable, contemporary genre classic. One of the most important novels King ever wrote. And his track record of late... you know, it hasn't been awful - sure enough he's had worse periods - but it certainly hasn't been great, either. And a sequel to The Shining needs to be truly great for it to stand a chance. For it to do anything other than denigrate our memories of the one and the only, Doctor Sleep needs to be better than anything King has written in decades.


And what are the chances?


Still and all, I can see a sequel to The Shining drawing back a fair few former Stephen King junkies back to the fold. If you're in that position, I wonder: would you welcome such a thing? Or would you prefer that the Grandpa Smurf of supernatural horror left our probably rather idealised imaginings of The Shining well enough alone?

Oh No, Not More Bioshock 2!

Quoth the head honcho of development studio 2K Games:

"Minerva's Den is a substantial addition that will give players more of what they're looking for: more story, more narrative, more gameplay and more of Rapture. The core team has created an exciting product that further enhances the mystery and allure of the world of Rapture. Minerva's Den will be a fitting conclusion to the BioShock 2 saga."

I beg to differ.

No one, as far as I know, has had their eyes on Minerva's Den as yet - I certainly haven't. At best, it'll be an entirely new zone for indefatigable Rapture enthusiasts to plumb, with new enemies, art assets and, as Christoph Hartmann (president of 2K) teases, added story and narrative. Wait, added story and narrative? My my, Christoph... you really are spoiling us!

At worst, Minerva's Den will be a cheap repurposing of all the already-repurposed elements that helped to make Bioshock 2 such a tremendous disappointment. It will be a greedy money-grab as if Bioshock 2 wasn't a greedy enough money-grab. It will not falter at the thought that it could further diminish the significance of the original game, just as the shameless replication that was Bioshock 2 did not.

In all likelihood we'll be looking at something in between the best and the worst case scenarios when Minerva's Den is released. But I'm going to say this now, and you can all hold me to it when the time comes: not a chance. Not by the hair on my chinny-chin chin will I be going anywhere near Minerva's Den.

I held the original Bioshock close to my heart for a long time, and though I did not see the narrative need for a sequel, I understood that its surprise commercial success would dictate just such a thing. With Ken Levine's tacit blessing and so much of the original development team on board, I was not immediately down on Bioshock 2. News of its multiplayer component helped me along the road to that conclusion, but mostly, I came to it on my own terms... after playing it. And having done so - while its failings were no reflection on the original game - I found my admiration for the original Bioshock wanting, because Bioshock 2 really was just a carbon copy, and if Bioshock could be so easily cloned, could it truly have been all that?

I will not, in short, be buying or otherwise playing Minerva's Den - nor the inevitable Bioshock 3. I am done with this world, I think, once so fantastic, so awe-inspiring; a single sequel has robbed me of my respect for a game I once believed to be among the best of the best. And so. No.

Who's with me?