Astute readers may notice that despite my protests to the contrary, participation has decreased significantly over the past six months. Productivity is at an all-time low. While this directly corresponds to real life class changes, including prestige classes and grind burnout, it can't be denied that our blog is perilously close to entering that predictable "Sorry we haven't posted anything in two months" stage.
I blame myself. My dictatorial instincts have recently been focused elsewhere, and I've been suffering a crisis of conscience over whether or not content should be free. In general, I agree that free content is nice, as long as the providers aren't self-righteous about it. But ideally, I think their podcasts, blogs, v-logs, and YouTube stunts should be ancillary to work they are actually paid for. Gloating over the death of a magazine that would pay you for the same content you give away for free is the sort of thing that, hypothetically, might classify your podcast as no longer tolerable. And it upsets me greatly that the guys from LOSTcasts put so much thought into their work while TV reporters at the New York and LA Times are paid not to.
But I digress, and use "I" more than I'd like. In the interest of keeping our blog alive for at least a full year, allow me to suggest some changes to for our review formula. Specifically, how we go about book reviews.
A book-a-week reader as a student, I couldn't imagine a life where time spent reading books would become a luxury. But here I am. As a fully-employed reader, writer, and gamer, I currently view books according to three criteria:
- Time: Is it worth the time spent to read/listen to a book?
- Money: Is it worth the cost of the reviewed format of the title (hardback/audiobook/trade/etc.)?
- Wait: Is it worth the wait to get it at the library or for a different format?
Note that these are the same criteria I use to judge anything supposedly entertaining or enlightening, from Battlestar to Buddhism.
As a hibernating aspiring novelist myself, I hesitate to suggest that a book is not worth the time spent reading it (you can learn something from any book, especially the bad ones). But there's no reason we should treat books with kid gloves when we're so harsh with more collaborative media like television, movies, games, and porn. Yes, it's sad for Christopher Pike if he spends years (benefit of the doubt) on his latest adult novel, only for some interlard to dismiss it as a waste of your time. But it's significantly more cruel to bash BSG or Sakura Tales, something we do often. It's probably not Apollo's fault that Starbuck isn't dead, and Mika Tan puts a lot more on the line than Christopher Pike. His heart may be on the page, but you won't recognize his face at the mall.
I'm not advocating that we descend to 5-sentence book reviews, but I think if we keep time, money, and wait in mind, it might be less daunting to get book reviews up on a regular basis. We need something to write about until television comes back. And our 8 readers might appreciate suggestions on what else they could be reading when I get passive-aggressive and refuse to post.
Unlike Pulitzer-Prize winning reviewer Stephen Hunter, I still get scared of oven timers. I can deal with this in real life. Whenever I visit a friend's house, the first thing I check up on is to make sure their oven timer is safely broken. It always is, so my visit can continue with only a mild sense of unease. But there's no such thing as a broken oven timer in a movie. The hero is walking in a dimly-lit house, the killer is nowhere to be seen... and then, the klaxon of fear rings throughout the kitchen, letting one and all know that the cinnamon rolls are ready for consumption. Meanwhile, I've curled up into a ball, and have started to quietly sob into my knees.
But I've compensated in other ways. For example, a ghost that has static, fuzz, bad horizontal control, or in any other way looks like it should be communicating to Lord Vader does nothing to me. People holding their heads while the room spins only brings me fond memories of the best episode of Quantum Leap ever. Also, I'm not afraid of Clint Howard.
Which brings me to 1408. It's Steven King's best story in a long time, and now it's back in PG-13 form. This means that going in, you already know that there will be no bleeding nipples. However, you might not know that the theatre will be packed with a crowd of kids. These are the same kids who thought Stay Alive was awesome, and that those horror films that wanted to be clever actually were. They will talk; you will hate.
If you can get past that, the film's probably good. Admittedly, it doesn't all work. There aren't oven timers, but the film does believe that television ghosts and The Carpenters are scarier than they really are. As it progresses, the film can never quite figure out if it's going for subtle chills, or if it wants to press the Poltergeist SFX Attack button. And while "This is Nine," is in the film, it just isn't the same. Despite those gripes, it's been a long while since I've emerged that theoretically happy after seeing a movie. There were plenty of moments I think I would have loved, if I hadn't been so busy plotting ways to kill the audience. More importantly, John Cusack's character is actually a man of normal intelligence. For a horror movie, that means that he's got a fifth-level brain, and that's a beautiful thing. Finally, novice actor Benny Urquidez is utterly convincing in his role of hammer-swinging Clint Howard. Even if he isn't the least bit terrifying.
