“But a little literary criticism wasn’t going to slow Frey down. As New York magazine reported in November, Frey has created Full Fathom Five, a company that recruits young MFA students to co-write novels with him — for as little as $500, $250 or even nothing — in hopes of sharing in the profits of their eventual blockbuster sale. The writing duties fell almost completely to the young writers: Frey would provide story ideas, writing guidance or polishing, and the connections to get the work published and in the right hands.
If it sounds suspiciously like a scam, Frey can show it’s not. “I Am Number Four,” co-written by Frey and recent Columbia MFA grad Jobie Hughes, under the pseudonym Pittacus Lore, was published in the fall of 2010. And that’s not all: It was subject to a film-rights bidding war, and the movie is being produced by Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg’s DreamWorks Studios.
“The film version of ‘I Am Number Four’ is due in theaters Feb. 18. Its latest trailer is above.
“Honestly, I don’t get it. But Michael Bay brought us “Transformers,” and I didn’t get that either. Take a look — is James Frey’s fiction factory farm working? What do you think?”
The first fruit of James Frey’s fiction factory, by Carolyn Kellogg, LA Times, January 3, 2011
Words, they fail me.
Kate parked the car-jacked Lexus a little ways down the street from Russek’s place, but with a good view of the house. “Not bad for a love nest,” she said, her voice betraying her years in London. It was her relaxed or swanky voice; just then she was with a comrade and felt safe.
“How you know they’re doin’ it?” Helena in the passenger seat asked.
“I wired it for sound yesterday.” With black hair and the right attitude, Kate could pass her middle-aged Middle Eastern looks off as a Latina. That is, if no one looked too hard, and at her age, no one was ever looking too hard. “Russek uses a cleaning service. That bloody kid hardly noticed me as I cleaned around the little bastard. Didn’t even look away from his laptop. The audio’s been nicely steamy so far. Have a listen?” Kate held out an iPod and earbuds.
“Nah, not unless there’s something more useful in it than smut.”
“2010 witnesses the publication of Ginger Mayerson’s Electricland, a unique and clever narrative with remarkably intricate content for its brevity.
“Electricland is a satirical novel about organized terrorism; it is an illustration of a group of middle-aged women turning a man’s world upside down. Electricland is a story about a young man exploring his sexuality. It is about a young hacker too smart for his own good; but more than anything, Electricland is an account of damage control.”
Electricland Reviewed, by John Alleman, Bookpleasures.com, October 14, 2010
It had taken the kid a few days to calm down and feel comfortable around Russek. On their first night together nightmares had sent Drew scrambling for his inhaler. Russek could only hold him lightly until the kid could breathe easily again. Eventually the nightmares subsided, but a new nightmare began to loom over them: Drew had been reclassified from witness to terrorist. Only Russek and a few others knew this and Russek had managed to convince everyone around him that it was absurd. For the moment they were allowing Russek to keep Drew with him under house arrest (although Drew didn’t know it), but the pressure was mounting from the Feds to move the kid into any lock-up available. Russek had been able to stall, bully and maneuver the system into putting Drew in LA Men’s Jail where he’d be close and Russek could call in a few favors to keep him safe until he could get him out. If he could get him out: there was that to worry about.
“Terror is not something limited to only one sex. A woman’s family is often more important than their life, and vengeance is not something to be underestimated. Electricland is a fun and riveting novel with plenty of suspense.”
Midwest Book Review, Amazon.com, September 11, 2010 (oddly enough)
However, I’m not sure where this came from:
“Electricland follows Agent Titania as she is faced with a series of female terrorists, and is tasked with figuring out their motivations and understanding how to fight back against them.”
Titania is the leader of the Seven Sirens, not their nemesis or something.
Part 1 of 7; Part 2 of 7; Part 3 of 7; Part 4 of 7; Part 5 of 7; Part 6 of 7; Part 7 of 7
For those of who’d rather read this as a pdf, it’s here: Electricland_by_Mayerson_Serialization_Pages. Ain’t I nice?
Mass Hysteria for Fun and Profit
“At what point did you lose control of Williams, Titania?” The Department Manager looked at his notes in his own numeric code.
“I never had control of him,” she said, looking at her perfectly manicured nails. “He was the CIA’s problem, but even they couldn’t control him. He was a loose cannon all the way around.”
“How the hell did he end up in the DARPA building?” her Section Manager asked. His voice was squeaky with suppressed rage, bordering on panic; that had always annoyed her about him.
“Williams was smart, in a crude sort of way. He picked up Viola’s trail in Afghanistan and followed her to Baku, where she was making contact with that damn Ryan child.”
“What was Ryan doing in Baku?” the Department Manager asked. He had it in his notes but he wanted some elaboration. “Other than playing computer games with your team?”
The next day, Russek didn’t have a moment’s hesitation in lending Williams his car because he had a police vehicle he could use. He’d just jokingly asked him to gas it up, which was a pretty expensive request that spring. It was only when Williams didn’t bring it back that night that he’d started to wonder what was going on. At one AM, Russek called the station to ask them to run the LoJack location. He didn’t recognize the address in the South Bay, but it was odd enough that he asked some local cops to meet him there.
It was more than odd, it was an ambush. Arriving at the deserted industrial park, Russek and the local cops were driven into the boxy glass and stucco building by gunfire. More gunfire inside; Russek dove into an office where he found a skinny young guy with long brown hair and big brown eyes working frantically on a laptop under a desk.
“New authors often have the misconception that they will sell a million books and be wealthy for the rest of their lives. But the book is just the beginning; authors shouldn’t put all their eggs in one basket—better to use the egg to hatch more golden egg-laying geese. One book can lead to a product line and multiple streams of residual income.”
Income Streams for Authors, by Irene Watson, SellingBooks.com, September 25, 2010
“Yeah, okay.” Bishop glanced at the sheriff’s deputy standing in the doorway. “Get me a better cell and I’ll take good care of him.”
“I’ll do what I can, but take good care of him no matter what.” Russek gave him a hard cop motherfucker look.
Bishop nodded, keeping his face blank. “Hey, sure.” He stood and then turned back to Russek. “What so special about this Ryan guy? Might help me protect him to know.”
“He saved my life.” Russek walked out on those words. He stopped by jail administration to confirm Ryan would be put in with Bishop and add that he wanted them moved to their own cell right away. He was told it would happen as soon as possible; there were truckloads of terrorists coming in since the suspension of habeas corpus after the Irvine thing.