It’s an agreement that says, “You’re going to write for me. I’m going to own it. I may or may not give you credit. If there is more than one book in the series, you are on the hook to write those too, for the exact same terms, but I don’t have to use you. In exchange for this, I’m going to pay you 40 percent of some amount you can’t verify — there’s no audit provision — and after the deduction of a whole bunch of expenses.”posted by scalefree (178 comments total) 13 users marked this as a favorite
You can't write, Frey. I can write. Check this out. I wrote this five years ago in my book "Addict: A Memoir Of Addiction.":posted by benzenedream at 4:49 PM on November 12, 2010 [96 favorites]
"I open the cockpit door and I walk out. The Pilot wipes his nose because he's been snorting coke off my Balls. The flight attendant asks me if everything is OK and I fuck her. Outside, it is Night. The wing is straddled by blinking lights. From where I sit I can smell the lights and I want to break them with my fists. So I bust through the emergency exit door and leap onto the wing. Thank god we're still on the ground. I punch out the lights with my forehead and tear at the steel with my claws. I wish my parents had never made me go to College. I wish that my mind were an endless Chasm and that I could crawl inside. My Balls are blue because I fuck so much. The last time I committed suicide, I hung myself from the neck until I couldn't breathe. My brain is black my balls are black my heart is made of stone and I love nothing but the rush of hop into my vein and if I could get away with it, I would kill You now as you sit there in your comfortable chair reading this and I kill myself and anyone who challenges my position as the greatest fucking writer of my generation. The flight attendant asks me if I want some Cheese and Crackers, but I cannot have any, because I have swallowed my tongue. It tasted fucking good. I love the way my tongue tastes when I swallow it, and I don't care if I ever eat again."
You think your appetites are bigger than mine, James Frey? You think you're a bigger rock star and a better writer than I am? Well, motherfucker, I challenge you. I want a drink. I want fifty drinks. I want a tub of acid as deep as the moon. I want a tube of glue that tastes like a dumptruck of peyote. I want a boyfriend. I want a boyfriend. I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas, letters and sodas. I want to be the guy with the most cake.
I want your ass, Frey. Served to me piping hot on a platter. Then I will bite it. And then I will send it back. Not because it's tough. But because it's not tough enough.
See You In Hell, Bitch.
We protect ourselves because of the charm that was placed upon us when we left, a charm guaranteeing that we can only be killed in the order of our numbers, so long as we stay apart. If we come together, then the charm is broken. When one of us is found and killed, a circular scar wraps around the right ankle of those still alive. And residing on our left ankle, formed when the Loric charm was first cast, is a small scar identical to the amulet each of us wears. The circular scars are another part of the charm. A warning system so that we know where we stand with each other, so that we know when they’ll be coming for us next.And:
Lorien. I close my eyes and allow myself to remember. An old planet, a hundred times older than Earth. Every problem that Earth now has–pollution, overpopulation, global warming, food shortages–Lorien also had. At one point, twenty-five thousand years ago, the planet began to die. This was long before the ability to travel through the universe, and the people of Lorien had to do something in order to survive. Slowly but surely they made a commitment to ensure that the planet would forever remain self-sustaining by changing their way of life, doing away with everything harmful–guns and bombs, poisonous chemicals, pollutants–and over time the damage began to reverse itself. With the benefit of evolution, over thousands of years, certain citizens–the Garde–developed powers in order to protect the planet, and to help it. It was as though Lorien rewarded my ancestors for their foresight, for their respect.As someone who reads a hell of a lot of YA, and any YA sci-fi that I can get my hands on, it makes me so so sad that this is what sells big. As opposed to, say, Patrick Ness's Chaos Walking Trilogy. Or Pam Sargent's Earthseed books. Or, I don't know, almost anything but this.
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posted by philip-random at 4:33 PM on November 12, 2010 [71 favorites]