I have Cell on my to-read list but I might not now since you said it was no good. That is a shame.
Just for you, here's a small RP fic to describe the origin of Cell:
It is a dark and stormy night. In his big house in Maine, Stephen King is bored. He hasn't written a novel in three days. Restless, he walks into his living room and picks a random DVD out of his shelf: Dawn of the Dead, the original George Romero version. He pops it in the player, watches it, strokes his bearded chin.
"Hmmmm."
Still restless, he walks into his extensive library searching for something not-too-heavy but still deep. He picks Richard Matheson's I Am Legend from the shelf and leafs through it. He strokes his bearded chin.
"Hmmmm."
He has an idea. He brings both DVD and book with him into the kitchen, stick both of them in the food processor and shreds them for a few minutes. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Hmmmm. Lacks that special King touch."
He goes into his study, grabs The Stand and The Tommyknockers, rips a few pages from each and adds to his mix. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Hmmmm. Needs a little something... Oh!"
Working quickly now, he sits down at his computer and types out a few pages on cell phones and computer viruses loosely based on something he saw on CNN a few years ago. Adds them to the mix. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Aaaaaah! Perfect!"
The result is a paper-dry morality tale, with a few sharp splinters of DVD in it to make the reader go "OW! What the hell, Steve?" and recycled characters who have had all but one dimension cut off. A cover version of greater works, with almost nothing to recommend it.
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Date: 2007-04-27 08:05 am (UTC)Just for you, here's a small RP fic to describe the origin of Cell:
It is a dark and stormy night. In his big house in Maine, Stephen King is bored. He hasn't written a novel in three days. Restless, he walks into his living room and picks a random DVD out of his shelf: Dawn of the Dead, the original George Romero version. He pops it in the player, watches it, strokes his bearded chin.
"Hmmmm."
Still restless, he walks into his extensive library searching for something not-too-heavy but still deep. He picks Richard Matheson's I Am Legend from the shelf and leafs through it. He strokes his bearded chin.
"Hmmmm."
He has an idea. He brings both DVD and book with him into the kitchen, stick both of them in the food processor and shreds them for a few minutes. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Hmmmm. Lacks that special King touch."
He goes into his study, grabs The Stand and The Tommyknockers, rips a few pages from each and adds to his mix. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Hmmmm. Needs a little something... Oh!"
Working quickly now, he sits down at his computer and types out a few pages on cell phones and computer viruses loosely based on something he saw on CNN a few years ago. Adds them to the mix. He dips a spoon in and tastes.
"Aaaaaah! Perfect!"
The result is a paper-dry morality tale, with a few sharp splinters of DVD in it to make the reader go "OW! What the hell, Steve?" and recycled characters who have had all but one dimension cut off. A cover version of greater works, with almost nothing to recommend it.