cthia wrote:THE AUTHOR AND THE FAN: WHAT DO WE OWE EACH OTHER?
The only thing I've ever asked of the author, is that he allow me to detest any of his characters for any of the decisions they might make, without feeling it casts any aspersions on himself. And to let Honor live. The fact that an author writes characters with such realism and clarity is an amazing accomplishment that is his fault and not mine. If I'd've run into Ransom after stumbling into a wormhole while sailing the Bermuda Triangle, I'd've choked the stuffing out of the her royal heinous. If I'd run into Pavel Young, I'd've stolen Honor's arm, shoved it up Pavel's ass, then removed the safety protocols and let loose a round.
https://www.amazon.com/Exasperating-Dav ... miniatures
This book is appalling to me. Fans are just so trucking disrespectful nowadays.
What is our due? Are we due?
I do not envy today's author who butts his head up against the efficiency of the internet, forums, arrogant fans and fellow writers. As I said before, when authors graduated from the Old Remington typewriters to laptops and desktops and the marvel of today's technology, they probably didn't count on all that came with it in the small print, which may make them long again for the good old days of the Remington and the natural isolation those bygone days provided from uppity, arrogant fans like us. There was a time we were just damn glad to get the next installment. We were downright ecstatic there was a next installment. We didn't bother to fact check the author's calculations and check the results again thrice. All in the name of progress. We simply enjoyed the read. In the olden days, authors really were gods of their universe. Nowadays, the fans have become rebellious demons.
When did WE THE PEOPLE who buy books begin to think we own stock in the story?
How much does an author owe us?
Should he have to consult with NASA scientists, lawyers, engineers, mathematicians and an entire gamut of professionals before he can quill at will? Some certainly do and many works are monumental because of it. Yet, does the responsibility of the modern age of publishing in many genres hurt storyline and production? Many of us shed tears about the time between publishing. As fans, have we come to a point where we place too much unnecessary pressure on an author by our unrelenting demands and expectations on storyline? Yet as we cry and complain, we fail to see the ramifications of such an innocent crime of passion and pressure. I've had many people tell me...
"That isn't how Weber writes."
I don't think that's fair. To Weber, or to me.
"He would never do that!" (only to see it happen.)
How do we know, since the days of sitting back and enjoying the ride of an author's storytelling are long gone? Now, we want to drive and be the GPS too.
Case in point. After SOV was released, I was appalled at the sharpness of the pitchforks right on the author's own site. Had it been me, Id've closed up shop and never returned. To be fair, some of the anger was manifested by the marketing teams and false advertisements. But a few posters were very irritated with David's character of Damien Harahap. I pointed out that they should tread lightly until the next installment because they may end up eating crow. It seems like those crow recipes are in great demand as I predicted.
My heart breaks for people like my sisters, who cannot enjoy sci-fi because their overworked mind cannot let go to taste the story underneath the tech.
I simply love reading about kzt's angst and what he calls those awful Honorverse books, like At All Costs, that I happen to find magnificent. Don't misunderstand me. Not for a minute am I downplaying a reader's right to read with whatever convictions he carries and I oftentimes wonder, in kzt's case, if I am missing something, having a more forgivable slant toward storyline. Then there are times I am content with my less than strict adherence to the technical aspects of sci-fi. Not because of an inadequacy, but in light of personal choice of a more intimate relationship with storyline itself, as I see it. But that is a personal observation which is biased and subjective.
At the end of the day, what is owed between author and fan? I didn't get the memo.
Take a deep, deep breath, then exhale slowly. After that, try a shot of vodka. (BTW, I always thought hated vodka until a Polish fan introduced me to the good stuff. Trust me, that act of simple human kindness made up for a lot of bad reviews. )
Look, I have a plan in mind for a story when I sit down to write. Sometimes the story cooperates, sometimes (like my current project) not so much. Like any human being living in the real world, I sometimes find myself dealing with deadlines and time pressures — or health or family issues — which keep me from doing the very best work I could under more ideal circumstances, but I always, always try to give fair value for the reader's time.
I'm a storyteller. That's what I do. I'm not competing for literary prizes, although I probably wouldn't cry into my beer if someone decided to give me a raft or two of them. I don't sit around worrying myself into bleak, black depression because someone criticizes one of my stories. I do tend to get pissed off when someone decides to go off on the sort of rant which would get them punched in the mouth if they delivered it to someone in person. There's a special form of cowardice in safely anonymous — or at least electronically invulnerable — character assassination, whether it's of a person or a philosophy or a piece of fiction. That is on my list of insufferable actions by moral midgets with spaghetti spines and intellectual integrity to match. Not too fond of people who can't construct three consecutive sentences without obscenity, either, now that I think about it. But, as Sharon would say, "I digress."
For the rest of it, if you paid the ferryman by at least reading the book first, you are entitled to whatever opinion fits you best. I may not agree with it. I may think the opinion you've expressed indicates that you missed something that was pretty darned self-evident to me (and, of course, any alert reader ) along the way. I may think that the opinion you've expressed is that of someone with . . . questionable judgment opining upon matters you know not of. But it's your opinion, you paid the intellectual coin for it, and it is therefore by definition valid, at least as opinion. If in expressing that opinion you have knowingly distorted or misquoted, all bets are off, of course.
Authors are as aware as readers that every hit is not a home run. Any honest writer will tell you there are books he'd like to have back so that he could fix something that got past him. Or that there's something in it that he's figured out how to do better with the passing of time. I have a whole big bunch of books out there. By definition that gives me more opportunities to have less-than-perfect books scattered amongst them.
I think that when people finish reading Uncompromising Honor, they will understand why Shadow of Victory was written the way it was. I will admit that I was dealing with serious health issues while I was working on that book, which had consequences I simply couldn't avoid. In fact, I was still dealing with them when I was simultaneously dealing with the final page proofs on both that book and At the Sign of Triumph. That was largely because of the concertina effect of getting both of them in late because of those health issues. I did mention that my doctor kicked me out of the office and ordered me to stay there for at least two months, didn't I? It was that kind of health issue.
I say this by way of explaining that there was, in fact, one thing I would've done differently in SoV if I'd had more time and I hadn't been graying out sitting in front of the computer. The one thing — the only thing — I would have done differently (and should have done differently), would have been to go ahead and give you the names of the various planetary institutions in Polish and Czech and use the appropriate acronyms for the planets' native languages, but then used the English translations in narrative, at the very least. Aside from that, that book did exactly what I needed it to do. It was, in fact, an essential building block for Uncompromising. Sometimes in an ongoing series, whether it's literary or television, there has to be a season or an episode which fulfills a necessary function for the overall story arc. In an ideal world, that doesn't cause potholes. Sometimes, however, it does. This, in fact, is the circumstance which produces the infamous "weak middle book of the trilogy" syndrome.
I don't pay much attention to the people who sharpen their quills on spite and dip their pens in vitriol. Anyone who has that kind of problem with a writer is probably responding to more than just their writing style or an occasional typo. And I don't let anyone but me shape where a story is going. I do take editorial input from my editors and publishers and I do my best to accommodate it in a way that works for them, for me, and — hopefully — for the reader. At the end of the day, though, it has to be my story, because storytelling is a very intimate activity. I could sell five million copies of a novel, and for every single reader, it's still a one-on-one experience, and that's important to me.
It's also why I love reader input, even when it comes in the form of complaints, as long as those complaints are delivered with at least a modicum of courtesy. I pay no attention at all to complaints which aren't delivered with at least a modicum of courtesy, because I consider the source. But I deeply value thoughtful commentary, even when it's pointing out a perceived weakness, and there have been occasions when discussing a story or a story line with fans has produced a synthesizing moment when I've suddenly realized there's a way to tweak what I already had in mind and make it better.
At the end of the day, I'm pretty much okay even with the loudmouth boneheads who really, really need their attitudes adjusted with a two-by-four. (What can I say? I'm a Southern boy who went to a country high school. ) I won't say I don't feel the momentary burn of anger — which, of course, is what a particularly loathsome variety of critic wants me to feel. But the two things that matter far more to me, when all's said and done, are that I'm satisfied with where I went and what I did and how well I accomplished my original goal, and that the readers who have come along with me for the long haul may have favorite books, may have least-favorite books, may have kzt's "awful books," may argue with me about ironclads and battleships, may pick holes in the physics, but they damned well cared enough about the characters to share the ride.
I can put up with an awful lot as long as I can look in the mirror and tell the man I see in it that both those things are true.