Recently, The Economist outlined How to Make a Good Biopic in light of the slew of biographical and semi-biographical films being released in the coming weeks.  The article wrote, “Oscar voters love them because the ‘based on a true story’ tag gives them a veneer of seriousness…” The article goes on to discuss a number of critically-acclaimed films from the biopic and partial-biopic subgenre, all which certainly fit the “seriousness” that is applauded by The Academy year after year.  But just last year, the Oscar-nabbing film The Social Network stirred up controversy when its portrayal of its subjects was called “a complete work of fiction” by, well, its subjects.  Since the people portrayed in the film were all public figures, it was technically fair game to not bother with changing character names despite a good chunk of the movie being largely fictionalized.

Of course, this particular case is a little more interesting since the people portrayed are not yet dead or even far removed enough from the news item that is now being packaged for the big screen.   Moviegoers saw this happen yet again with Moneyball although Paul DePodesta did request that his name be changed (Peter Brand played by Jonah Hill) after finding the script to be more “Inspired by Real Events” than “Based on a True Story.”  These labels are like the film industry equivalent of FDA regulations regarding our country’s love for Frankenfood (as demonstrated by Taco Bell’s beef vs. meat vs. meat product vs. not-meat-at-all fiasco earlier this year) and with technology allowing a quicker turnover between conception of an idea and its accessibility to an audience, it may not be too surprising if the litigious ultimately push for stricter terms of use for these labels.

Law and Order and its many spinoffs boast that their stories are “Ripped From the Headlines,” and rip they do.  Their most popular spinoff, SVU, has covered pretty much any and every special victims news headline from the last three or four decades (and considering most of the series takes place in present-day Manhattan, those who don’t reside here are left to believe it’s easily the most dangerous place in the world).  There are times they do little in changing the original news story with episodes parading characters like Billy Tripley, a shameless rip of Michael Jackson with the only differentiations being in name and career (Tripley is a toy company CEO).  In their Domnique Strauss-Kahn episode (announced just two months after the incident), they pretty much ripped the headline when the headline was hot off the press and even had one of the detectives call it “another Dominique Strauss-Kahn situation” (like some sort of self-loving nod to the fortune of receiving this headline right before the new season).

So for lack of better exclamations, what’s up with that? It’s one thing to change names to protect the parties involved (or protect one’s own ass), but what’s the deal with being a clear rip of a story but also acknowledging the actual events within the storyline?

And how about the opposite of this occurrence of not changing characters/real people’s names and placing them in original/fictional/offbeat/obsessive situations? Once upon a time, FanFiction (or for those opposed to the extra syllable, “FanFic”) was contained within the science-fiction community in hopes of extending the lives of their favorite fictional characters.  Eventually, this broke beyond sci-fi and into mainstream/more popular television shows and many took it upon themselves to create the storyline they wanted but were never given.

A visit to sites like WattPad and one will see that FanFic is no longer exclusive to fictional characters (preteen girls seem to find it cathartic to write and read about average suburban girls somehow ending up with Justin Bieber).  Most are far from great literary works (hell, most can’t be called literary) but a surprising amount of these pieces have legitimately interesting plotlines and are well-written (take it from a person who knows not of Justin Bieber but somehow read a couple stories… in the name of research).  The stories are free and available on the site with no need for download but the concept is reminiscent of the free-for-all self-publishing world that Amazon introduced with Kindle Direct Publishing years ago.  Anyone can publish just about anything which means anyone who writes or blogs about anything remotely literary (as I occasionally do) now have inboxes/mailboxes full of ARCs and free books.  One that recently crossed my path appeared particularly relevant to today’s discussion.  If you thumb through the indie-published Hidden Gem books by India Lee, you’ll find it peppered with “articles” and “blog posts” by fictional entertainment magazines and bloggers.  If you are well-versed in celebrity gossip, you’ll find these “fictional” bloggers are clear rips of the popular ONTD, Perez Hilton, JustJared, among others, using similar memes and vernacular as the individual bloggers do.  But just as SVU did with the whole “referring to the thing we’re totally ripping from,” Lee refers to D-Listed and ONTD as competitors in searching for the Lady Gaga-esque protagonist’s true identity (the plotline, from what I gather, is pretty much Hannah Montana for the Gossip Girl crowd) and the tweeny, celebrity-laden story refers to real celebrities as well as what I believe are fictional ones (there’s just no way to tell anymore, I’m not hip and I’ve come to terms with that).  And as Gaga has her Little Monsters and Justin Bieber has his Beliebers, a character by the name of Tyler Chase (undoubtedly based on Bieber) has his “Tyler Chasers.”  The books are not free like the FanFic on WattPad (unless you’re on the Lit Drift staff, in which case you can find the ARCs on my desk) but considering it’s subject and publication method, is that pretty much the only thing that sets it apart?

So tell me – “Based On a True Story” vs. “Inspired By Real Events” vs. “Ripped From the Headlines” vs. “Fan Fiction” – where do you draw the line?

A not-so-recent episode of South Park contained a reference to Shirley Jackson’s amazing short story “The Lottery.” I spent the rest of that night scouring for other references; some new to me and some rekindled childhood memories. That initial discovery ultimately led me to create a category at my blog which would focus on literary references in cartoons. Why is this blog-worthy? I generally waste my internet hours refreshing my perpetually empty email inbox and crafting Facebook statuses to appear off-the-cuff and witty. I was suddenly struck by the inherent, and intended, contradiction: the idea of books—the icon of intelligence—existing within cartoons—the long-accepted symbol of stupidity—appealed to my sense of irony. Even more, if these mediums are so far removed, what gives cartoon makers the balls to assume an overlap in audience enough to appreciate the references? Something special had been happening in cartoons, and I was too busy laughing at the fart jokes to see it.

The Simpsons has a long history of literary allusions, and to a lesser degree, Family Guy and the aforementioned South Park. Why? Surely this meshing of worlds serves more than to tickle the cartoon creators’ personal farty bones (ha, fart joke). Do cartoons feel the need to legitimize themselves for a public that has for so long, and continues to, hold books to such high esteem?

Perhaps the book-nods reveal the cartoon creators’ own narrative acumen. Novels represent pure narrative, in that they are not supported in any way by outside effects, i.e, CGI, audio, and actor baggage (though it would be hard to argue that James Frey’s fame didn’t help the sales of his post-Oprah novel, Bright Shiny Morning). Interest in novels, enough to incorporate allusions into a cartoon, implies a lot about a creator’s passion for story. “Yes, that’s a fart joke,” might say a Matt Groening or a Seth McFarlane, “but it’s a fart joke with sophistication.” There’s a reason the aforementioned big three cartoons have lasted so long: intelligent humor. A viewer can only be impressed with bright colors and funny voices for so long before he needs substance. Books are the signposts, marking such substance.

What is even more interesting than the simple presence of these allusions is their often modesty and brevity. Rarely is the audience confronted directly with a source and rarely is the reference extended beyond a few frames for a sight gag (the exceptions to both rules would include The Simpsons’ Treehouse of Horror episodes and South Park’s Charles Dickens retelling. The cartoons aren’t trying to convert anyone. They are tapping into an audience that I think most people don’t realize exists: the literate cartoon viewer.

But to be truly legitimized, allusions need to go both ways. Are there examples of novels or short stories that contain cartoon references? Tell us in the comments.

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This is a gust post by Caleb J. Ross as part of his Stranger Will Tour for Strange blog tour. His goal is to post at a different blog every few days beginning with the release of his novel Stranger Will in March 2011 to the release of his second novel, I Didn’t Mean to Be Kevin in November 2011. If you have connections to a lit blog of any type, professional journal or personal site, please contact him. He would love to compromise your integrity for a day. To be a groupie and follow this tour, subscribe to the Caleb J. Ross blog RSS feed. Follow him on Twitter: @calebjross.com. Friend him on Facebook: Facebook.com/rosscaleb

“I thought editors filled in missing commas and fixed misspelled words.” – Hazel, alt.punk

The recent release of my debut novel alt.punk was extraordinarily exciting; however, maturing the novel from first draft to publication was not without editing pains. Similar to the Kübler-Ross theory, I progressed through what I refer to as the “five stages of editing.”

Stage One: Ignorance

Yes, I was guilty of querying alt.punk to Casperian Books thinking, “I’ve revised and edited this to death. There is no way this could get any more perfect.”

Oh, how I was wrong. It’s embarrassing to admit just how wrong.

The Casperian Books team shot back a list of global revisions I needed to make, and after making those and resubmitting, they responded with something to the effect of, “better but it still needs a lot of work.” From there, I was paired up with an editor who, little did I know, would launch alt.punk into an extreme manuscript makeover, which to date, remains one of the most challenging ordeals of my life.

Dramatic? Yes. But it was a shock to learn just how wrong my visions of “perfect” were. Little did I know that I was progressing through the five stages of editing rather quickly.

Stage Two: Shock

Read more »

Ed. Note: We got tired of all the ‘best-of’ lists of the past decade. So we had writer-filmmaker D.W. Lichtenberg write a best-of list of the next decade. Enjoy.

Recently, I invented a time machine. I traveled into the future for the sole purpose of seeing every movie that will be released in the coming decade. That way, I could be the first person to write a “best of the decade” movie list. And don’t worry, I didn’t cheat by traveling further into the future and copying everyone else’s top ten. But I do believe that this list will alter the future, and it’s because of this list that some of these movies will soon exist. Read more »

I recently read about old phone books in Somerset, England being converted to mini-lending libraries, which prompted me to consider the social aspects of a used book.

Last year, I happened upon a used copy of Nabokov’s Lolita at the wonderfully ancient Prospero’s in Kansas City (bricks and books, but so, so many of each). Having been familiar with the book’s pedophilic legacy, I approached, more curious than anything. I’m not easily offended, so I anticipated little reaction. But, aside from being minimally offensive and much funnier than I would have imagined (Nabokov can turn quite a phrase), the book surprised me on another level.

Used books, I discovered, are perhaps the origin of the virtual book networking circle. Consider this exchange between two Lolita readers: Read more »