Where were we now? Oh yes, back on the job in California, shortly after my trip to Ireland. Dealing with writers.
I hope not to disappoint after yesterday’s cliffhanger. But this really is about writers and not about defiance and resistance — though it is possible that my old friend Maurice could make another appearance before this story is done.
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Not long after returning, I was making my way down the pile of short-story manuscripts when I ran across another from one of those “two percent” writers — the almost-wonderful ones.
This manuscript told a charming tale, perfect for the kind of magazine we were working on.
This may ramble a bit because it goes both into the ancient past (well, my ancient past) and into places far away. But it begins with Ms Lynn Shepherd, she of the infamous “JK Rowling should get out of the way so no-talent hacks like me have a chance,” HuffPo journalistic fart.
I never told you, but for a very short time, I was a magazine editor. I mean a very short time. We quickly ran out of ways to praise the airline whose magazine it was and the CEO lost interest.
But in the moments it lived, it took fiction submissions. And paid decently for them. Even then, fiction was dying out in magazines. Had been for decades. The golden days with golden pays of the 1920s-40s were long gone. Nobody wanted made-up stuff anymore. They wanted relevance. But we took fiction submissions.
Boy, did we ever. After our birth announcement appeared in a major writers’-market magazine, we took nothin’ but. Two-foot-tall heaps of it.
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That stuff broke my heart. It freakin’ broke my heart in ways I’ll never forget.
I usually ignore self-important little whiners (like this one, for instance) who think the world would be a better place — for them — if it would only run on their agenda.
I mean, seriously. Life is just too short. Anyhow, Ayn Rand, for all her personal and literary faults, said all that ever needed to be said about such types in Atlas Shrugged.
Still, it’s fun to watch a master tear self-righteous losers to pieces. To wit: Here’s successful writer Larry Correia savagely fisking a HuffPo whine-a-thon by unsuccessful writer Lynn Shepherd. Shepherd thinks that the world’s most successful writer, JK Rowling, should step aside. Quit writing. Or at least quit publishing any work for grownups. Though Shepherd (generous soul that she is) would still “allow” Rowling to write for personal pleasure, or for children — as long as never an adult-oriented Rowlingian word ever again saw print.
Why? Well, because it’s just unfair that Rowling is doing so fabulously. She needs to stop writing to give other writers a fair chance. And if Rowling really cared about writing, she’d stop doing it.
You go, Larry.
(Harvard Crimson superiority fest in that first link c/o MJR.)
A copy of RebelFire: Out of the Gray Zone personally autographed by me to you (or the person of your choice)
A copy of The Mitzvah personally autographed by L. Neil Smith.
The actual 25th-anniversary JPFO pens used to sign your books. (Two books, two pens.)
A JPFO 25th-anniversary tee-shirt featuring a message directed at our First Amendment friends who may not understand how important the Second Amendment is for them.
The package is $72 postpaid and only 25 will be sold.
Neil and I send the books to you directly. JPFO sends the shirt.
Anybody seen The Lego Movie? Critics and audiences are loving it. Foxians have ranted that it’s anti-business. This review say’s its a hilarious and inspiring romp that savages crony capitalism and promotes all that we hold dear.
Sure. You’re an anti-gunner and you just “forgot” you carried your gun into an elementary school.
“The repentant informant.” This article on liberty’s former friend Stacy Litz was published last year. The reporter (whose name really, truly is Jason Nark) interviewed me but forgot to tell me when the story hit, which is why I’m late with the news. I’m not quoted, but he does reference the booklet the Commentariat collaborated on: Rats! So pat yourselves on the back. You’re famous. :-)
Cops do the usual no-knock dawn raid. On the usual word of a lying informant. Resident, believing he and his pregnant girlfriend are in danger, shoots and kills a deputy. Cops find pot. A grand jury refuses to indict. Even a blogger cop says it’s the right decision. And you thought there were no such things as miracles.
Unfortunately, the usual *&^%$ still goes on. But you know … credit card fraud was involved. And somebody in the house had a concealed carry permit. So of course any amount of coppish violence is totally, absolutely justified. If you don’t think so you must be a domestic terrorist or something.
Uh oh. Tricksy, buggy Adobe Flash now carries malware that can infect even Linux machines and Macs. Guess the good old days are truly over.
Here’s more on Freespeechme.org from MWD. For nerdstuff, this is pretty lucid. And he very kindly tells me he’s snagged me a clairewolfe.bit domain name just in case.
And never forget, no matter how weird the world gets, we can always enjoy the puppies. So here, via MLS, are big dogs who don’t realize they are.
Google Glass and facial-recognition apps. Not completely evil yet, but how long before they get there? (H/T MJR)
I love movies. So of course I loved the talent and quirky presence of Philip Seymour Hoffman. Hoffman, you ass, how could you die in such a damn, stupid, entirely avoidable way? Two good articles on his admirable talents here and here.
Gun control: “Un-American and anti-Negro.” The Dutchman finds treasure and truth in a American Rifleman article.
