Sanderson has been extremely popular among fantasy readers for more than a decade, but last year, he made international headlines for raising $41 million on Kickstarter to self-publish four secret books and deliver them directly to 185,341 fans. No publisher, no Amazon, no bookstores. "I think some of the things [traditional publishing companies] do in New York are wrong-headed," he says. But some critics expressed concerns that backing the project was tantamount to proxy-donating to the Mormon Church. Another Sanderson critic emerged just a few hours before this story was originally scheduled to go live: Jason Kehe, a senior editor at WIRED magazine, who spent even more time in Sanderson's orbit than I did. In his viral profile, "Brandon Sanderson Is Your God," Kehe criticized Sanderson's prose, reputation, clothing, eating habits, state of residence, faith, fans, friends, and family for being—among other adjectives—"depressingly, story-killingly lame." Unsurprisingly, a legion of fans came to Sanderson's defense on social media. |
|
|
If you're looking to read another music drama or simply want to brush up industry history, we've got ten groovy recommendations. |
| Curiously, the judge bought half his argument. |
|
|
Left, Down, A, B, A, B, Right, Left, R2+R3, enter... Oh! You startled me. What was I doing? Well, I was plugging in a cheat code. Not only did I just unlock Air Bud, Ashton Kutcher, and Dale Earnhardt Jr. as writers for Esquire.com, but you should probably check your bank account. Holy cow, that's a lot of zeros!* My point, albeit lost, is that you should be wondering something, in between your uber-serious playthroughs of The Last of Us and whatever God of War we're on: what the hell happened to cheat codes? If you gamed in the '90s and early '00s, you know what I'm talking about. Somewhere along the way, cheat codes fell by the wayside to make way for DLC and in-game currencies. Now, consider yours truly here to call on everyone, every game—even you, Fortnite—to bring them back. |
|
|
Here are 12 of the very best ones out there. |
| Welcome to the era of masculine midis, minis, and maxis. |
|
|
It's been four days since he returned from filming the final scenes of the fourth season of Succession, which its creator, Jesse Armstrong, recently announced will be its last. It marks the end of a transformative time for Culkin. Over his six years on the show, he's become a father; bought his first place, in Greenpoint, Brooklyn; and moved from the island he'd lived on for his entire life. The show has raised his profile and his reputation. He's received two Emmy and three Golden Globe nominations; last year, he won a Critics Choice Award. "There cannot be a better job on the planet for an actor," he says. It's also given him plenty of options. But at the moment, none of them are as enticing as being at home with his wife and kids. For a guy who's always been ambivalent about acting as a career but at the same time revels in the work itself, this is a tough situation. "I haven't had a fucking moment to think about how I feel about it. All I know is I feel kind of down," Culkin says. "It's hard to sort of accept. What are the stages of grief? I don't know which one I'm in right now. Maybe depression or denial. Maybe a little bit of both." |
|
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment