Shaun Duke

Shaun Duke is an aspiring writer, a reviewer, and an academic. He is currently an Assistant Professor of Digital Rhetoric and Writing at Bemidji State University. He received his PhD in English from the University of Florida and studies science fiction, postcolonialism, digital fan cultures, and digital rhetoric.

World in the Satin Bag

Writing and the Credit Crunch

So today I was reading one new author’s account of how she struggled as a starving artist in New York, even after receiving her first advance. Then I heard one of the magazines a colleague regularly contributed to was no longer able to pay him. The London Magazine, too, which was initially set up by T. S. Eliot, is unable to pay any more, since the Arts Council ceased their funding. Whilst this last is directly attributable to the London Olympics swallowing much of the funding, I’ve had to ask myself, with Lloyds TSB and Halifax Bank of Scotland today announcing a drastic merger to avoid another Northern Rock scenario–with writing being merely ‘entertainment’, will writers continue to suffer in today’s economic climate? I remember someone telling me that rates of pay for spec fic writers have remained the same since the 1920s. Non-fiction rates aren’t always what they should be if you’re freelance, either. Usually, unless you get a cushy job behind a desk in a glossy mag, you can never expect much anyway. Or you can become Anne Rice, but it’s very difficult to predict which authors will become big. So we’re already at the mercy of whim and circumstance. But aren’t we just fluff anyway? How necessary is the job of the writer–particularly the fiction writer–in a world of increasing literacy but without the disposable income to afford aspirational magazines and glossy new hardback books? Journalists will always be needed, but there are many different types and a true journalist is different to a writer. They get out there, find stories, please their editors and only write incidentally. The news is more important than the writing, and the journalism more important than the writer. I haven’t bought a non-literary magazine in a long time. They never appeal to me any more when much of the stuff I used to read in them can be found online for free. I buy lots of literary magazines, but often grimace at the contents or commend their effort and tuck it away only partially read. I buy them more for display, these days, because there are so many writers and too few great stories. So will we begin to struggle even harder to find the few meagre jobs we need to pay the rent? If banks are folding, it’s only a matter of time before frivolities like books begin to decline in sales. Or is literature immortal? Will we need it whatever time period we’re in? You’re thoughts are welcome.

World in the Satin Bag

Disney Genetically Engineers Their Stars

I got this from Peggy over at Biology in Science Fiction. What’s amazing about this isn’t just that it’s the most bizarre and hilarious things to ever be said about Disney (and I really hope Disney was behind this), but that everyone in the video are absolutely, 100% dead serious. They don’t crack up or anything. I can just see kids thinking this is real all over the place and wishing they could be genetically grown by Disney too.Watch it, because it’s hilarious: Disney Lab Unveils Its Latest Line Of Genetically Engineered Child Stars (Don’t click the read more, there isn’t any more after this!)

World in the Satin Bag

William Sanders: At It…Again

It’s amazing really. This man has no off button. None, not even a pause button. Instead of doing, as Joe Sherry has intelligently pointed out, what he should have done, he has done the opposite and probably should earn the award for most angry, foul-mouthed, horrendously pathetic and cranky editor to ever grace the publishing industry. In Joe Sherry’s words: Not to get too deep into the initial issue, as this has all been covered before, but what bothered me most about this whole situation was not necessarily the opening statement (bad as it came across), but rather in how Sanders responded to the criticism…it appears that Sanders was so angry that anyone would possibly be offended by something he said and no longer wish to be associated with his magazine that he accused those writers of having their panties in a wad (more or less) and of being cowards, among other less complimentary things. This is what bothered me the most. Well, this is what bothered me the most as well. You see, I saw the comments in the original rejection letter and thought, “Well, I understand what he means, but these are stupid words.” And then I read Sanders’s responses and started to get the impression that these weren’t simply stupid things said by people that don’t always think through things all the way–I’m guilty of this at times. I saw his anger, his hatred, and his violent words towards the people who disagreed with him and thought his comments were offensive. He never once made an honest apology, but continued shoving his foot into his mouth in a display of close-minded anger, the kind of anger we’d expect of the extreme religious right who still think the Earth is only a few thousand years old and refuse to accept that science has made the world a better place.Now comes word that Helix is closing its doors. It seems true that Helix has had plans to close for a while, and I’m willing to accept this as truth as one of the contributors of Helix, quoted in Joe Sherry’s article, has stated that it is true. But, considering the controversy over this whole thing, are we at all surprised by this? Let’s just say that Helix wasn’t planning to close their doors before the incident, do any of us honestly think that Helix would last much longer anyway? Some places have already withdrawn their support by removing *links* to Helix and the blogosphere has turned William Sanders’s name into an alternative to searching for the anti-christ. Authors have been requesting that their work be removed from Helix’s archives. Many were denied (and still are being denied, with Sanders’s grumpy, and very “professional” comments attached). In all honesty, the market has become so tainted by Sanders’s inability to save face for even a moment, or at least shut his mouth and stop fuming like delinquent teenager.And now we’re left with these comments about those of us who spoke out about him: At this point the Blogtrotters and other hostile entities will be leaping grasshopperlikeabout, emitting shrill piping sounds of joy, clapping their tiny hands, bursting into “Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead,” and other childish expressions of triumph. One hopes that they do not injure themselves patting themselves on the back.…The point is, all this was decided long before the Blogtrotters went into their latest shit-flinging frenzy. So as much as it no doubt pleases them to believe that they were responsible for taking down the Great Monster, they should rather offer thanks to the freeloaders who, simply by sitting on their rumps and doing nothing to support the magazine, did more to terminate Helix than all the silly whining bastards put together.Of course they won’t believe this; they will choose to believe what they want to believe, just as they always do. If there is one thing the Blogtrotters and the Silly Righteous Girls have demonstrated throughout this affair, it is their total imperviousness to reality. Yeah, and if that wasn’t enough you can see his continued spewing of hatred here, in which he’s apparently interviewed about his comments and tries desperately to make himself sound like a rational human being who never did anything wrong. I read about three or four questions worth and realized this is the same garbage he’s been spewing the whole time since the beginning of this fiasco, with the same style of language, the same unapologetic attitude, and the same anger and bigotry that got him flamed by bloggers in the first place.So a word to William Sanders: Grow up. If you ever work in this business again, pray you get hired by someone that doesn’t know what kind of person you are, because you’ve yet to learn what it means to be an adult. No human being should be as angry as you. Maybe some therapy in your near future would help you deal with whatever deep-seeded psychological damage has turned you into this grumpy person. And with that, I think I’m done with this whole thing. We’ll see if he can get his foot any deeper down his throat in the next few months or years.

World in the Satin Bag

MEME: Top 100 Books of All Time!

Stolen from here (I’m only using the top 100 because 778 is way too big). I’m going to mix up the rules a bit this time. Rules: Bold the titles you’ve read. Italicize the titles you really want to read. Put ** by titles you hated or couldn’t finish reading or won’t read again. If you’ve read the book more than once, put the number of times you’ve read it in ( )s somewhere. Tag people. I’m tagging SQT, Tia, and Carraka. Anyone else who wants to do this is more than welcome. Here goes: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (2) Hamlet by William Shakespeare 1984 by George Orwell (5) The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien (3) Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien (3) Catch-22 by Joseph Heller The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (2) Night by Elie Wiesel The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien The Bible The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving Brave New World by Aldous Huxley The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez I, Robot by Isaac Asimov The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck Dune by Frank Herbert Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse The Stand by Stephen King** Ulysses by James Joyce Paradise Lost by John Milton** (2) Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig Watership Down byRichard Adams The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell Roots by Alex Haley The Giver by Lois Lowry The Two Towers by J.R.R. Tolkien (3) Great Expectations by Charles Dickens Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton Animal Farm by George Orwell Macbeth by William Shakespeare Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle The World According to Garp by John Irving Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll Black Hawk Down by Mark Bowden King Lear by William Shakespeare A Theory of Justice by John Rawls Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury Moby Dick by Herman Melville Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer** (3) Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence & Robert E. Lee The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey The Inferno by Dante Alighieri (2) Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison The Red Tent by Anita Diamant Death in Venice and Other Stories by Thomas Mann Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K. Rowling** Les Miserables by Victor Hugo The Trial by Franz Kafka Ada by Vladimir Nabokov Middlemarch by George Elliot Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein Godel, Escher, Bach by Douglas Hofstadter Hocus Pocus by Kurt Vonnegut The Way Things Work by David Macauly Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson Confessions by St. Augustine of Hippo Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berndt David Copperfield by Charles Dickens A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess My Name is Asher by Lev Chaim Potok The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O’Brien The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon The Princess Bride by William Goldman Neuromancer by William Gibson The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein Prufrock and Other Observations by T.S. Eliot Run with the Horsemen by Ferrol Sams All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque The Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman Exodus by Leon Uris The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More by Roald Dahl Anarchy, State and Utopia by Robert Nozick And there you go. So I’ve read a pathetic 29 of the 100 on this list. Very sad indeed. What about you?

World in the Satin Bag

Ask the Bloggers Series: Question #6 (I’m in it!)

Grasping For the Wind has put up yet another of the Ask the Bloggers questions, which, of course, I answered. You can find out more about it here. The question this time was: What kind of book cover attracts your attention? What attributes of the cover make you more or less likely to take it off the shelf? Does the spine of the book have any effect on your choices? Yeah, so what about you? (Don’t click the read more, there isn’t any more after this!)

World in the Satin Bag

Steam Engines Sample: Your Thoughts?

Okay, so my girlfriend and I have been discussing the opening paragraph of a new story I’ve been working on. She’s been mostly displeased with it because she doesn’t know what the engines actually are, and I’ve said that I shouldn’t have to say what the engines are or what they necessarily do in that opening paragraph. My argument is that it’s not really important at that moment. But we disagree on this whole thing, so I’m bringing it to the readers. Below you’ll find the paragraph as it currently stands. It’s not polished, so it may need some mild tweaking in my mind.What do you think? Hate it or like it or neither? Comments? The air grew silent as the steam engines became still in the sky. Chains held them as their massive turbines seized up; I watched them settle, the metallic roar of suspension bridges being pushed to their limits and the screams of workers, dozens of them, suddenly struck with the realization that their skyward employment had breathed its last breath. And all around me the voices of the many, their eyes peering to where the chains dug into the floating islands, shocked into curiosity, like cats roaming their mythical histories, rose up like a collective burst of terror, piercing the now dormant sky with their cries and hushed whispers. Alright. That’s that.(Don’t click the read more, there isn’t any more after this!)

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