I know I’m not the only one who grew up collecting movie and TV soundtracks… and the opening themes of many works retain an almost Pavlovian response on me (and I’ve also tested this on my kids in the name of parent science: the Fraggle Rock theme still works).
Well, fast forward to this year and my main outlet of writing is, of course, Jabberwocky Audio Theater. It’s not enough to have launched it this year, I want to build the audience dramatically, because –spoiler alert– that means people may support us so we can sustainably be on the air.
So this meant putting on my marketing hat and figuring out how to build an audience. One humbling truth is Russell has tested is how many people will become fans of your work if you demonstrate you are adjacent to one of their existing fandoms. For example, many people hear Rogue Tyger, and think of Firefly. In fact, there’s a lot of influences from sci-fi channels. In case some of you haven’t listened to JAT Chat #1, one of the influences for the format of Rogue Tyger and its cliffhanger endings was the classic Doctor Who serials.
So when the opportunity came to team up with a bunch of other indie creators for a Doctor Who sweepstakes organized by Russell, I was in. My hope is many a Doctor Who fan will enjoy the adventures of the Tyger’s crew. Why, there might even be a Blake’s Seven fan in the mix too. If this piques your interest, odds are you’ll be interested in what many of the other authors have to offer… and hey, we get a bigger audience.
Harlan was a writer who made other writers proud to be writers.
He goes on to… not go into how Harlan Ellison turned “cranky” into an art form. Indeed, in the past decade or so, I’ve read numerous anecdotes lauding Ellison’s influence, but noting that he could switch from congenial to cantankerous depending on when you approached him.
But time and again in those anecdotes you will see how Harlan Ellison stood up for himself and other writers. He was not about to let writers be disrespected, dismissed, and above all, be unpaid. And he backed up this attitude in word and deed: do not underestimate the writer.
Seriously, in D&D terms, Harlan Ellison is the person you bring up when someone muses whether bards could ever be dangerous.
Dungeon Master (DM): You see a bard standing in your way. He has pulled out his lute. Player One: A bard?!? Player Two: I unsheathe my sword Player Three: Seriously, DM? We’re ready for a Tiamat-level monster and you– DM: The bard starts playing his lute. He steps into the light. It’s Harlan Ellison. Player One: @#$%! Player Two: I lower my sword and back away slowly Player Three: I toss him a couple gold coins and say, “Semper reddere scriptor.”
If you’ve wondered what the point of some jobs are — and if, in fact, there seem to be more jobs out there trying to “maximize innovative enterprise solutions” or just “realize value,” you’re not alone.
What’s worse is realizing you might be in one of those positions and then pondering what you can possibly do within the confines of that meaninglessness. (Though I suppose some people long for that.)
Besides the “Brazilian” fascination with the topic, I’ve been doing project and program management for about 20 years — a prime suspect for pointless work. As I explain to people from time to time, the level of meaning and satisfaction from my jobs varies greatly on the work culture and management where I work.
The contract where I updated a spreadsheet three times a day and had meetings about it was neither fulfilling nor, I would argue, very useful to anyone. It’s not like anyone got insight from the minutely updated spreadsheet or any bonuses from attending meetings. My management was unconvinced and, frankly, rather hostile to any process improvements.
Contrast that with a job where the manager said the first day, “No process is sacred, including our own.” And true to form, we updated one central business process no less than three times in three years — all to get people more engaged and meetings more consequential. I’ve also been in positions to happily eliminate thousands of hours’ worth of meetings from peoples schedules every year and set up intranet sites that (gasp) answer people’s questions without them ever needing to contact me about some previously inscrutable topic.
Reducing net headaches for hundreds of people — including those you’ll never meet — is immensely satisfying. But as Sam Lowry would attest, the bureaucracy resists simplification or clarity. So channel your inner Tuttle and watch out for Jack Lint.
So yes, not only am I aware of Dungeons & Dragons, I have played Dungeons & Dragons and, in fact, have served as a Dungeon Master. As far as I’m concerned, that’s not a bad thing for writers or storytellers in general (see also these pieces on D&D and storytelling in Fast Company, Lifehacker, and Litreactor.)
All said cases make me wonder what the place of private equity should be (see Covert’s article for some questions raised). And in case you want an argument for private equity much as it exists, listen to an interview with David Rubenstein of the Carlyle Group.