Richard Kriheli

Being sworn onto the witness stand, the publishing industry lumbers aboard and plops down. Outside the court, cries were heard, the loudest of which sounded something like “publishing is dead!” The trial has been raging on for the past few years now, but little has been reconciled since. The popular sentiment remains : the end is nigh. Sentences are about to be sentenced.

As we await for the proverbial gavel to strike, let us muse on the cause of this ruckus. Allow me to adjourn the sentencing proceedings, if you will. See, I think this is all bogus and preventable. A whole lot of fingers are pointing at Amazon, digital media and the internet for hurting the industry. Excuse my naivety, but isn’t having another place and means to sell and promote your books a good thing? Perhaps if you are doing it wisely. Am I foolish to believe that technology could be an aid rather than a scourge to the process. Granted, there are other factors at hand, but nothing seems to outweigh the obvious suspects.

Blaming the internet is for the meek. The problem, I believe, is that the publishing folks haven’t thought things through with sincere insight and scrutiny. Lets face it, the old-school folks running the publishing conglomerates are stunted in their evolution. The ancient business model no longer applies to current times, and waving a white flag now is just pathetic. Resistance to change is going to get you slaughtered in the field. Here’s the deal in three sentences (digest at will): You guys are trapped in a very flat, linear narrative – the bound book. However, this same stack of pages is no longer the optimal way of disseminating content. So what you’ve become is a group of grumpy, whiny nostalgics bound to print.

I’m not suggesting the book is over. Nor do I want to sound like I am taunting sans rejoinder. I actually have gobs of ideas on how to work towards solutions. Things that may work, things that may not. But the bottom line is, I’ve got potential propositions that may save you from the chair. But no freebies here for vultures. If anyone wants to talk shop, look me up and I’d be happy to get some discussion rolling. I’m looking your way, Random, Harper, S&S, Penguin & Hatchette. This trial will come out of recess quicker than you can spell recession (pun intended).

Book it.

I vant to suck your… um, soul.

I’d like to formally declare that we can call the classic incarnation of the vampire as dead (for now). The body of the myth is completely flaccid. Rigor Mortis. Finis!

What brought upon this death? Was it an extra order of garlic-knots? A WalMart pistol with a silver bullet? An enormous cross searing into the soul of the legend? No it was not. The proverbial wooden stake through the heart is actually contemporary media and overly sympathetic, romantic artists. There, I said it. You guys killed off the vampire. Give yourselves a hand. (clap clap).

I can see it was a long battle that did not start overnight. It began in the late 70s when Anne Rice decided she wanted to romanticize the lore altogether. Suddenly, the formerly grotesque figure is sporting ruffles and satin shirts. Hollywood didn’t help matters – Frank Langella wasn’t exactly scaring the ladies off – with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise taking the reins shortly after. More recently, the success and hype behind the Angel, Buffy, True Blood and Twilight narratives are responsible for opening the shades and reducing the legend to dust. Stoker would be ashamed (though some would argue – myself included – that he partially contributed to this mess).

I’m disgusted by this loss because for a long time, I was a vampire-junkie. While I wasn’t exactly goth-crazy or anything, I really was fond of the rich history and folklore carried by the legend of vampires. My love of the horror film began with Nosferatu and the subsequent appreciation for old folk tales coming from Eastern Europe. I was a student of the mythos, as I was attempting to write a vampire story way back when, but then Charlie Huston beat me to a similar idea and I made some adjustments and changed gears (props to Mr. Huston, btw). You can say that I feel somewhat invested when I speak about the topic.

So, the bastardization of the bloodsucker is the blood on your hands. I call out to the audiences that give these monstrosities life and urge them to repel it. How much more of this nonsense can you take? You guys have literally sapped the tragedy out of the myth and turned it into 90210. Please stop. If I hear another story about “the most perfect man…” and he sports fangs, I will vomit.

But I digress. Instead of reading my eulogy, I want to offer this: I know folklore prevents the vampire from truly being destroyed. So it is my wish that contemporary writers do their homework and give me something fresh, new and … gruesome, for a change. And please, don’t suck (har har).