Careercow Chuck Wendig / Charles Wendig / TerribleMinds - Terrible author, terrible person, ruined Internet Archive's online library

[Cool Spot]

There's no way in hell he isn't a pedophile.

 

[AnOminous]

That doesn't do anything to help the current situtation, of course, but at least people will be able to make money off Steamboat Willy porn in the nearish future.

I don't really see that helping too many creators other than documentarians covering early Western animation, who can now use the actual Steamboat Willy without doing a fair use analysis.

I'm sure Disney will have a few test cases to see what the limit of it is, because unless you start with Steamboat Willy and completely forget every bit of subsequent mouse canon and don't use any of it, they can claim you're infringing the subsequent intellectual property that is still under copyright and that your claim of it being based solely on Steamboat Willy is bogus.

There's no way in hell he isn't a pedophile.

He sure looks like one.

And I mean that literally. He looks a lot like pedophile Peter Bright, a.k.a. DrPizza.

Of course all these soy golems look exactly the same, have the same robotic mannerisms, it's like they were made with a cookie cutter.

Spoiler: separated at birth?

Is there actually some special glasses store where they sell only to pedophiles? Why do they all have the same glasses?

 

[DavidFerrie]

I don't really see that helping too many creators other than documentarians covering early Western animation, who can now use the actual Steamboat Willy without doing a fair use analysis.

I'm sure Disney will have a few test cases to see what the limit of it is, because unless you start with Steamboat Willy and completely forget every bit of subsequent mouse canon and don't use any of it, they can claim you're infringing the subsequent intellectual property that is still under copyright and that your claim of it being based solely on Steamboat Willy is bogus.



He sure looks like one.

And I mean that literally. He looks a lot like pedophile Peter Bright, a.k.a. DrPizza.

Of course all these soy golems look exactly the same, have the same robotic mannerisms, it's like they were made with a cookie cutter.

Spoiler: separated at birth?

View attachment 1408518
View attachment 1408520

Is there actually some special glasses store where they sell only to pedophiles? Why do they all have the same glasses?

Same glasses, same MPB, same sloppy facial hair, same smug/indignant facial expressions, same wall-eyes.

Physiognomy is real, folks.

 

[Reverend]

I've read a few samples of Chuck's writing and for the life of me, I can't understand what the appeal is.
His writing style of present-tense short sentences doesn't read fluent, it seems jerky, badly paced, pretentious and above all, his use and choice of words is boring and lame.

Or, to take a page from the Cuckmeister himself:

His writing. Present tense. All in present tense. It is not fluent or fun to read. Not at all. No. Way too jerky. Badly paced, too. Some call it pretentious with a sidedish of guacamole. Did I mention the bad choice of words? He is bad at choosing words. Words to express what he wants to say. What he wants you to read. Yeah, he is a writer like that. A writer that's bad at choosing words. Bad at getting to the point and moving on, too, at times. At times, he skips ahead too fast, but other times, not. Then he keeps reiterating things endlessly.
Sometimes.
But that was in the past, now Chuck is on Twitter. And we wait for the inevitable. That someone comes forward and spills the beans about Chuck being a sexpest. A sexpest that targets underage fans. Only a matter of time. Time.

He's trying to borrow the style from James Ellroy which is presented in that same machine gun type tense, rushing headlong into the next sentence, with phrasing that evokes raw imagery.

It's hard as HELL to do and very few writers can do it as good as Ellroy (LA Confidential) who mastered it to make you need a cigarette after reading a chapter.

Example:

February 21st, 1950

An abandoned auto court in the San Berdoo foothills; Buzz Meeks checked in with ninety-four thousand dollars, eighteen pounds of high-grade heroin, a 10-gauge pump, a .38 special, a .45 automatic and a switchblade he’d bought of a pachuco at the border – right before he spotted the car parked across the line: Mickey Cohen goons in an LAPD unmarked, Tijuana cops standing by to bootjack a piece of his goodies, dump his body in the San Ysidro River.
He’d been running a week; he’d spent fifty-six grand staying alive: cars, hideouts at four and five thousand a night – risk rates – the innkeepers knew Mickey C. was after him for heisting his dope summit and his woman, the L.A. Police wanted him for killing one of their own. The Cohen contract kiboshed an outright dope sale – nobody could move the shit for fear or reprisals; the best he could do was lay it off with Doc Englekling’s sons – Doc would freeze it, package it, sell it later and get him his percentage. Doc used to work with Mickey and had the smarts to be afraid of the prick; the brothers, charging fifteen grand, sent him to the El Serrano Motel and were setting up his escape. Tonight at dusk, two men – wetback runners – would drive him to a beanfield, shoot him to Guatemala City via white powder airlines. He’d have twenty-odd pounds of Big H working for him stateside – if he could trust Doc’s boys and they could trust the runners.
Meeks ditched his car in a pine grove, hauled his suitcase out, scoped the setup:
The motel was horseshoe-shaped, a dozen rooms, foot-hills against the back of them – no rear approach possible.
The courtyard was loose gravel covered with twigs, paper debris, empty wine bottles – footsteps would crunch, tires would crack wood and glass.
There was only one access – the road he drove in on – reconnoiterers would have to trek thick timber to take a potshot.
Or they could be waiting in one of the rooms.
Meeks grabbed the 10-gauge, started kicking in doors. One, two, three, four – cobwebs, rats, bathrooms with plugged-up toilets, rotted food, magazines in Spanish – the runners probably used the place to house their spics en route to the slave farms up in Kern County. Five, six, seven, bingo on that – Mex families huddled on mattresses, scared of a white man with a gun, ‘There, there’ to keep them pacified. The last string of rooms stood empty; Meeks got his satchel, plopped it down just inside unit 12: front/courtyard view, a mattress on box springs spilling kapok, not bad for a last American flop.

 

[An Sionnach Seang]

Wendigprose is short. Very short. Lots of periods. You read it. Then your brain pauses. Constantly. Adjectives are at a minimum. Or they're stupid. Like herkily-jerkily. Who uses that? Wendig. Throw in a "yikes" for good measure. Also lesbians. Because you're woke. Woke wendigprose.

as John Aubrey (1626-1697) wrote about a similarly staccato Roman author: "Seneca writes as a boar doth pisse, by jirkes"

 

[haunted vagina]

Who wants to bet that he read on Ernest Hemingway's Wikipedia page that short descriptive sentences are Literature while not understanding the difference between the tone that works for a Hemingway story and the tone that works for a Star Wars book.

 

[AnOminous]

Who wants to bet that he read on Ernest Hemingway's Wikipedia page that short descriptive sentences are Literature while not understanding the difference between the tone that works for a Hemingway story and the tone that works for a Star Wars book.

Nor understanding you shouldn't be a one trick pony.

"That something I cannot yet define completely but the feeling comes when you write well and truly of something and know impersonally you have written in that way and those who are paid to read it and report on it do not like the subject so they say it is all a fake, yet you know its value absolutely; or when you do something which people do not consider a serious occupation and yet you know truly, that it is as important and has always been as important as all the things that are in fashion, and when, on the sea, you are alone with it and know that this Gulf Stream you are living with, knowing, learning about, and loving, has moved, as it moves, since before man, and that it has gone by the shoreline of that long, beautiful, unhappy island since before Columbus sighted it and that the things you find out about it, and those that have always lived in it are permanent and of value because that stream will flow, as it has flowed, after the Indians, after the Spaniards, after the British, after the Americans and after all the Cubans and all the systems of governments, the richness, the poverty, the martyrdom, the sacrifice and the venality and the cruelty are all gone as the high-piled scow of garbage, bright-colored, white-flecked, ill-smelling, now tilted on its side, spills off its load into the blue water, turning it a pale green to a depth of four or five fathoms as the load spreads across the surface, the sinkable part going down and the flotsam of palm fronds, corks, bottles, and used electric light globes, seasoned with an occasional condom or a deep floating corset, the torn leaves of a student’s exercise book, a well-inflated dog, the occasional rat, the no-longer-distinguished cat; all this well shepherded by the boats of the garbage pickers who pluck their prizes with long poles, as interested, as intelligent, and as accurate as historians; they have the viewpoint; the stream, with no visible flow, takes five loads of this a day when things are going well in La Habana and in ten miles along the coast it is as clear and blue and unimpressed as it was ever before the tug hauled out the scow; and the palm fronds of our victories, the worn light bulbs of our discoveries and the empty condoms of our great loves float with no significance against one single, lasting thing—the stream."

 

[Red Hood]

Copyright's a strange beast. On the one hand, seemingly perpetual copyright long after the death of the author(s) does offer some incentive for, say, Warner Brothers to continually keep The Wizard of Oz in circulation and looking good. One could probably argue that when a studio owns the rights to something and to continue distributing it, they may be more willing to take care of it. On the other hand, it is awkward when they're still monetizing something that only the film restorers and Blu-Ray programmers are going to actually be paid for working on. Everyone else involved is just picking up coins.

at least people will be able to make money off Steamboat Willy porn in the nearish future.

Guess we'll finally find out why Mickey's whistling at the beginning.

 

[REGENDarySumanai]

I wrote a short story after reading this thread a few days ago and not to toot my own horn, but I find it to be better and more heartwarming than any of his output. The fact that some unemployed schlub with an IT degree can write better than an author is astounding.

The hasty man in a jacket scurries out of the shop with his freshly made cheese sandwich as the young office worker passes by him by before entering the sandwich shop. He only took a glance, but he remembers seeing the same guy every time the office worker got his sandwich. "He got another cheese sandwich, right?" The female cashier, who looked no older than 20, answered his question. "He comes here every day at lunch for a cheese sandwich, but he never gets the same type of cheese each week." "Seriously?" "Yes, and he's been doing that for years now. We rotate what we put on our sandwiches and all he wants is cheese. It's gotten to the point that we named it after him, but enough about that. So what do you want to order today?"

 

[TaimuRadiu]

Chuck is apparently getting #MeToo'd now as well. These accusations read like they are straight out of somebody's Tumblr headcanon, but truth and falsity don't matter when you're dealing with Social Justice. Does Chuck #BelieveWomen, or doesn't he? To reiterate, I have absolutely no idea who this person is. But she is doubtless brave and powerful and totally badass. And female and therefore incapable of lying, right Chuck?

Jaym Gates

And on that note, because if I'm going to set fire to myself anyways, I might as well be thorough: Chuck Wendig demanded, repeatedly, that I be accountable for the behavior of a man I worked with...

www.facebook.com

http://archive.md/B95Yy

Spoiler: Facebook Screenshot-Big

View attachment 1407792​

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Honestly, I'm not even quite sure what he did, but whatever it was it sure made a wamen sad.

I'm glad I have no idea who any of these people are. Except for Harlan Ellison. Wendig is not fit to lick Ellison's typewriter ribbon.

 

[Reverend]

Chuck is apparently getting #MeToo'd now as well. These accusations read like they are straight out of somebody's Tumblr headcanon, but truth and falsity don't matter when you're dealing with Social Justice. Does Chuck #BelieveWomen, or doesn't he? To reiterate, I have absolutely no idea who this person is. But she is doubtless brave and powerful and totally badass. And female and therefore incapable of lying, right Chuck?

Jaym Gates

And on that note, because if I'm going to set fire to myself anyways, I might as well be thorough: Chuck Wendig demanded, repeatedly, that I be accountable for the behavior of a man I worked with...

www.facebook.com

http://archive.md/B95Yy

Spoiler: Facebook Screenshot-Big

View attachment 1407792​

​

Honestly, I'm not even quite sure what he did, but whatever it was it sure made a wamen sad.

#BelieveAllWomen isn't that right ChuckO?

 

[DavidFerrie]

He's trying to borrow the style from James Ellroy which is presented in that same machine gun type tense, rushing headlong into the next sentence, with phrasing that evokes raw imagery.

It's hard as HELL to do and very few writers can do it as good as Ellroy (LA Confidential) who mastered it to make you need a cigarette after reading a chapter.

Example:

Earlier in this thread, I compared Soy Cowboy's "style" to Ellroy's -- very unfavorably. Like all genuine talents, Ellroy makes his terse, stream-of-consciousness style look easy. But it's damnably difficult to render effectively.

And just. Breaking up. Sentences. At arbitrary points. Doesn't cut it.

 

[Laughingjoke2]

To all Fan Fiction writers out there quit bitching about not being able to profit of others work and take your ideas and create your own work.

There really is no excuse if some middle age fat house wife can take her shitty Twilight Fan Fiction and turn into shitty soft core porn for other middle age cunts to flick their bean too and make hundreds of millions in the process so can you.

 

[Mola Ram]

When did the first movie come out? 2001, maybe, just maybe, that movie renewed interest in it. Maybe that's why. How much money was it making in 1998, or in the 80s?

In case you couldn't tell, this article was written when the movies were still some months from release. Also, Tolkien was worth nearly half a billion dollars in 1973 money (the RIP date in the article is in error), which, you may note, was almost 30 years before the movies came out, and 5 years before even the cartoon. Lord of the Rings was a license to print money pretty much from the moment the hippies discovered it in the 1960s. Even in the 1980s Tolkien ate up at least a full shelf in the fantasy section of most bookstores, and that's before you get to the calendars, video games, RPGs, posters, art books, and reams and reams of ancillary material.

If you don't know what a juggernaut Lord of the Rings was for decades before the movies came out, you're either very young, very ignorant, or both.

 

[BrunoMattei]

In case you couldn't tell, this article was written when the movies were still some months from release. Also, Tolkien was worth nearly half a billion dollars in 1973 money (the RIP date in the article is in error), which, you may note, was almost 30 years before the movies came out, and 5 years before even the cartoon. Lord of the Rings was a license to print money pretty much from the moment the hippies discovered it in the 1960s. Even in the 1980s Tolkien ate up at least a full shelf in the fantasy section of most bookstores, and that's before you get to the calendars, video games, RPGs, posters, art books, and reams and reams of ancillary material.

If you don't know what a juggernaut Lord of the Rings was for decades before the movies came out, you're either very young, very ignorant, or both.

Good god almighty! You killed him! As god as my witness he is broken in half!

 

[andr0id psycho sho(ker]

Good god almighty! You killed him! As god as my witness he is broken in half!

does it matter though? he clearly hasn't taken a hint?

 

[TaimuRadiu]

In case you couldn't tell, this article was written when the movies were still some months from release. Also, Tolkien was worth nearly half a billion dollars in 1973 money (the RIP date in the article is in error), which, you may note, was almost 30 years before the movies came out, and 5 years before even the cartoon. Lord of the Rings was a license to print money pretty much from the moment the hippies discovered it in the 1960s. Even in the 1980s Tolkien ate up at least a full shelf in the fantasy section of most bookstores, and that's before you get to the calendars, video games, RPGs, posters, art books, and reams and reams of ancillary material.

If you don't know what a juggernaut Lord of the Rings was for decades before the movies came out, you're either very young, very ignorant, or both.

Half a billion pounds was worth a great deal more than half a billion dollars then.

Also, FRODO LIVES!

 

[Safir]

Literally any franchise worthy of the name.

Late and gay but fuck franchises. If the creator of the "franchise" can't convince the public to buy their recent installment instead of someone else's, they don't deserve it. Abolishing franchises means if the corporate owner fucks over the original human creator, the original creator can take his stuff and his audience to another corporation without having to file off serial numbers. it gives the humans behind multimedia works more creative power, not less.

 

[ditto]

Without the need for soulless franchise copy Chuck wouldn't have a career.

I'll support any law that give the world more Tolkiens and less Chucks.

 

[Red Hood]

Late and gay but fuck franchises. If the creator of the "franchise" can't convince the public to buy their recent installment instead of someone else's, they don't deserve it. Abolishing franchises means if the corporate owner fucks over the original human creator, the original creator can take his stuff and his audience to another corporation without having to file off serial numbers. it gives the humans behind multimedia works more creative power, not less.

I would love for The Shadow to be out of the copyright grasp of those mealy-mouthed simps at Conde Nast.