The housemates and I had a brief discussion last night about published fanfiction - specifically, the 'real books' stuff like Geraldine Brooks'
March, or the often-godawful licensed novelizations of movies/tv shows.
And today, I saw the best example
ever of this: It's called
Darcy and Elizabeth: Days and Nights at Pemberly.Clearly, Victorian-era fanfic is the way to go, if you want to make something of it. On the
same table at the bookstore near my work is
My Jim, an account from the perspective of the wife of Jim from
Huckleberry Finn. Same story, folks. Derivative fiction is not necessarily
bad fiction. Hell, the frigging Aeneid was glorified fic of Homer's
Illiad, and Shakespeare would barely have a play to his name if we discounted the stuff he borrowed from other people. So anyway. Fic away, my friends!
...Just consider doing it for the works whose copyrights have come up, if you want to get somewhere with it!
And since I'm already on the subject...
( My Updated Reading List )Fruitflesh is turning out to mostly be boring and worthless. I had high hopes, but it pretty much combines the worst of writing-advice books and squishy "chicken soup for the woman's soul" type books. I normally like those, but the bad ones... boy are they bad.
My most exciting revelation from
Lear so far has been the source of the name Regan. You guessed it - Simon and River's mum seems to have been named for one of Cordelia's unpleasant sisters. Fitting, no?