It was fun while it lasted, and I squeezed it for all it was worth.
The final nominees for this year’s Bram Stoker Awards were announced a few hours ago and “Raw” is not on the list. My story has been banished to the preliminary-ballot wasteland, where all the other also-ran stories wander aimlessly and, from time to time, kill and eat each other. It’s what horror stories do when left to fend for themselves.
Which doesn’t mean you still shouldn’t read “Raw.” After all, it was one of 11 semi-finalists in its category for the most prestigious literary horror award out there. Go get it, along with 19 other twisted tales I’ve concocted over the years. The number of sales and Kindle Unlimited page-reads have been heartening, making this my biggest eBook publication yet.
I can’t say the news isn’t disappointing. Plans to stalk the Stokers again next year are already afoot. Tonight, however, I will have to curl up with my Writers Guild Award, my Max-und-Moritz prize, and my sixth-grade public-speaking trophy, and cry myself to sleep.
The marathon episode of Cinema Smackdown went well last night. Despite being a guest short, we managed to blather on about the Oscars, cinema, and the state of the film industry for three solid hours with barely a break. I also got to make my argument that Boo! A Madea Halloween was snubbed by the Academy this year. I haven’t seen the film. I will never see the film. Regardless, I think it should be given a special Oscar for Best Financial Model.
Tentpoles running 200 to 300 million dollars are killing Hollywood. Budgets like that could very well wipe out even the most venerable studios if they suffer just one summer of flops. Gambling on 100k shoestring indies they snatch at Sundance won’t save them. There needs to be a return to mid-level budget cinema, and Tyler Perry is paving the way. Heed his example. The latest Madea film cost 20 million to make. It was marketed for about 30 cents (that’s rounded up) and took in over 70 million. That’s not a home run by Hollywood standards, but it’s a solid base hit. Enough of those keep studios afloat. The majors used to understand that, but now they’re swinging for the franchise fences with every remake, reboot, and regurgitated release—and it’s unsustainable.
Give unemployed filmmakers (especially John Waters) the 20 to 40 million they need to make their boutique films that are geared towards specific demographics. Fuck the international market. Not every film can appeal to everyone. Boo! A Madea Halloween barely cracked one million in non-domestic release, but it didn’t matter. It knew its audience, they showed up, and they loved it, even as every critic panned it.
Listen to reason Hollywood, and be saved.
Spoiler alert: they won’t.