I’m often wont to say that plot is Soylent Green — it’s made of people. Meaning, people make decisions, and that’s what forms an overarching plot or story, not some external hero’s myth, not some skeletal framework of A to B to C. And that’s in narrative, yes, but it also translates to the real world. Science and history are both driven by people — their decisions, their choices, their observations and recordings. And here, Andrea Phillips — with her new novel, America, Inc. out this week — talks a bit about the idea of the corporation, and how it relates to the individual:

***

My name is Andrea Phillips, I think corporations get a bad rap that they don’t entirely deserve. I even wrote a book called America Inc. that’s about a corporation running for president of the U.S. — and they’re the good guys. See, I think the corporation is just a tool, and like every tool, it can be used for good or for evil.

In the beginning, corporate personhood was a great idea. The whole point was to legally separate a business from its owners. That way they wouldn’t be ruined if something went wrong and the business went under — say a ship was lost at sea, or the shop burned down.

Recognizing the business as a separate legal entity created a shield that meant the people the business owed money to couldn’t come after the owner’s house, couldn’t take all of their life savings, couldn’t take the lollipops from the mouths of their children. That doesn’t seem so bad, right?

So why do people hate corporations today? That tool fell into the wrong hands. They’ve taken the legal and financial shield and applied it to other areas of responsibility. It’s become a moral shield, too.

When Deepwater Horizon spilled hundreds of millions of gallons into the Gulf of Mexico, we blamed BP. When researchers discovered diesel cars cheating their way through emissions testing, we blamed Volkswagen. When the 737 Max turned out to have gone into service with fatal flaws, we blamed Boeing.

But each one of those incidents is the result of decisions and actions taken by individual people — and not just one or two, but a cascade of people all choosing to do the wrong thing.

This also applies to business practices. It’s easy shorthand to talk about Amazon’s monopoly power or Wal-Mart’s decision to underpay their workers. But Amazon didn’t decide anything. Wal-Mart didn’t, either. In a very concrete way, neither Amazon nor Wal-Mart even exist. You can’t touch them, and you certainly can’t throw them in a jail cell. Every one of those actions is a choice that some asshole made — some asshole who took on the mantle of the corporation to shield him from the consequences.

The corporation isn’t the problem. The problem is a cultural and legal structure that absolves individuals of moral and criminal culpability for the choices they’ve made. The problem is letting those assholes run things without consequences.

It doesn’t have to be like that.

OK, fine. Sometimes, in the most egregious of cases, we’ll throw a few assholes in jail. Sometimes, though, the people who wind up in hot water aren’t the ones who made the original decision; they’re just water-carriers following orders for the people who sign their checks.

We could be doing a lot more. We could be exercising punishments for corporate malfeasance with more bite than skimming off a fraction of a percent of profits in fines. We could and should create a criminal framework that punishes both businesses and decision makers for their antisocial, anti-environmental, anticompetitive choices.

Creating sweeping change like that is hard and slow. In the meantime, all of us have to operate within this corrupt system. There’s no escaping it. But that doesn’t mean we have to be corrupt ourselves.

Individuals have much more power than they realize. Every day, we make choices, and our little choices can add up ripple by ripple to become a great wave of change. We’ve seen it in #MeToo, where each person calling out the instigator of their harassment emboldens others to share their experiences and enforce a new cultural acceptance that that kind of shit isn’t okay. We’re seeing it right now with Black Lives Matter, where years of tremendous work of Black activists has finally stirred even apathetic white people to protest and to support massive changes in police use of force, disciplinary processes, and funding.

I’m not saying that little by little we can change the complicated international financial-legal system on our own. But in your own workplace, you can be a sticky cog, finding ways to prevent evil and ways to do good. Every business that sent out an email supporting Black Lives Matter did that because an individual at that company made a choice — a moral choice. We can all find ways to try to make our workplaces less racist, or less exploitative, even if it’s just by example.

Me, I’m just a reclusive author. I can’t press my employer to, say, make Juneteenth a paid holiday because I don’t have one. So for my part, I’m donating 15% of net profits from sales of America Inc. to Common Cause, a nonprofit that works to protect voting writes in the United States.

Be the change. It’s got to start somewhere. And once you start, you just might discover you’re not as alone as you thought.

***

Andrea Phillips is an award-winning immersive experience designer and author. Her short fiction includes the critically acclaimed novelette The Revolution, Brought to You by Nike. America, Inc. is its novel-length sequel. Her other books include Revision, The Daring Adventures of Lucy Smokeheart, and A Creator’s Guide to Transmedia Storytelling. She also created the Serial Box LitRPG project Alternis, and co-authored Bookburners and ReMade. You can find her on Twitter at @andrhia. I mean, if you like that sort of thing.

Andrea Phillips: Website | Twitter

America, Inc.: Buy Now

They call them Savages. Brutal. Efficient. Expendable.

The empire relies on them. The Savages are the greatest weapon they ever developed. Culled from the streets of their cities, they take the ones no one will miss and throw them, by the thousands, at the empire’s enemies. If they live, they fight again. If they die, there are always more to take their place.

Evie is not a Savage. She’s a warrior with a mission: to find the man she once loved, the man who holds the key to exposing the secret of the Savage Legion and ending the mass conscription of the empire’s poor and wretched.

But to find him, she must become one of them, to be marked in her blood, to fight in their wars, and to find her purpose. Evie will die a Savage if she has to, but not before showing the world who she really is and what the Savage Legion can really do.

***

I didn’t know how to write an epic fantasy novel.

I grew up reading sprawling fantasy sagas, from Dragonlance to Pern to Forgotten Realms. While that did a good job of schooling me on the tropes of those novels I wanted to avoid and/or examine, it did not, as it turns out, prepare me to write one. I tend towards short form fiction naturally, and structuring something so long and of such scope spun me around something fierce. I had to trash and restart SAVAGE LEGION at least twice, and oddly the only thing that ended up saving me was falling ass-backwards into writing a series of novellas. I solved my structuring problems by viewing my epic fantasy as three novellas which would compose three acts and feature three POV characters (the number three just started to make sense to me, I guess). If I hadn’t embedded that in my brain as a guide, I never would’ve finished the book.

The line between giving yourself time and living in fear is razor-thin.

It took me longer to write this novel than any other work I’ve ever produced. It was at least four or five years from the first word I typed to handing off the first draft to my agent. I needed the time to teach myself how to write this book, but there definitely came a point when I left it sitting for long periods because, quite simply, I’d become afraid of it. It was too much. Mentally, emotionally, physically. And the more time I left it alone, the easier it became to keep doing that and the harder it became to return to it. While I do believe some of those years were vital to figuring the book out and arriving at the final draft we did, if I’m being honest with myself I probably could’ve cut those years in half by dealing with the unhealthy caverns of that fear instead of letting it fester and so often steer me.

The smallest piece of advice can change your entire world. Literally.

This book was originally (in the long-long ago) going to be titled WILD MAN. After a time, the exclusiveness of that title began to bug me. I talked to author Kameron Hurley about it, who told me how she reacted when she first heard Star Trek’s famous opening narration make the change from “where no man has gone before” to “where no one has gone before” and her emotional reaction to it. Needless to say, it was a profound moment for her, one of inclusion she didn’t even know she craved that deeply. Her story, her perspective, not only led me to a new title, it ended up completely altering my view of the novel and its world. I’ve often and publicly credited Hurley with helping me reshape this novel, and Hurley always reacts incredulously and dismissively. “What, that thing about the title?” she once asked me when I brought it up. It was a brief and innocuous bit of craft exchange to her, but to me it was vital and formative.

Your novel is only as good as the village that helps you raise it.

My writing career up to this point had been very isolated and insular. I never liked anyone “telling me how to write,” as I saw it. SAVAGE LEGION completely changed my perspective on that. It started with my agent, who is also an experienced editor. My actual editor at Saga Press, Navah Wolfe, was as much collaborator as overseer. Our sensitivity readers who were integral to informing the experiences of the characters who aren’t like me. I needed them all, and I am 100% convinced SAVAGE LEGION wouldn’t be the book I believe it is without every single one of them. I’ve never allowed so many people inside my process before, and I am grateful that I did, but more importantly, I’m grateful they were the right people for this book. That dynamic is paramount. It’s not about getting a bunch of notes from a bunch of folks, it’s about finding the right perspectives to inform your process and the work itself.

It’s worth the years it took to write because you finished it.

This is a shitty time to have a book coming out. There are vastly more attention-consuming and frankly more important things happening than a story I wrote. Pandemics, civil uprising, rooting out predators and racism in every industry and field. There have also been a lot of behind-the-scenes issues with the publication of this book I won’t go into here. Needless to say, I’ve been very discouraged as we approach release day for SAVAGE LEGION. What I’ve ultimately learned, however, is you can’t replace time. No amount of fanfare or recognition or sales numbers will give me back the years I put into writing this book. In the end, it is either worth the cost of time to you as the author or it isn’t. For me, I’ve decided the years I spent on this book weren’t a waste, because I finished it. I did what I set out to do, and the book is exactly what I wanted it to be. Nothing else really matters, not in the final tally.

***

Matt Wallace is a retired professional wrestler and the author of the Sin du Jour novella series (Tor.com Publishing), as well as the Savage Rebellion series (Saga Press). His debut middle-grade novel, Bump, is scheduled to be released in 2021 by Katherine Tegen Books. In 2018, alongside co-host Mur Lafferty, he took home the Hugo Award for their podcast, Ditch Diggers. In addition to writing for several television series, Matt has also done extensive narrative work on video game titles for publishers such as inXile Entertainment. He currently resides in Los Angeles with his wife, Nikki, and maintains a steady Twitter presence @MattFnWallace, as well as a more sporadic presence on YouTube with his channel, Angry Writer.

Matt Wallace: Website | Twitter

Savage Legion: Print | eBook

PSST. Hey! Wanna help the SF Bay-area bookstore, Comix Experience? Want to see me and a buncha authors parade around their pets for the purpose of supporting a cool bookstore? OF COURSE YOU DO. Tomorrow, I’m joining a bevy of amazing authors (Charlie Jane Anders, Mallory O’Meara, Seanan McGuire, Mike Chen, Annalee Newitz, Fonda Lee and Meg Elison) to show off my dogs (er, assuming that they are in canine compliance and won’t try to lick the laptop to death).

Tickets are available now — go forth!

TRILOGY IS A POWERFUL WORD

Fifteen years ago, when I started writing the short story that eventually evolved into Awakened, I never imagined it would become the sprawling international trilogy that it is now. The first book was a New York-centric thriller, inspired by the action movies and novels that affected me as a kid growing up in Staten Island. But planning and nailing an entire trilogy is a whole lot more difficult.

The sequel The Brink took the story overseas, and by the time we get to Obliteration, we’re following characters in every corner of the globe. To nail down each twist and turn of the plot while staying true to the emotional arcs and backbone of the story, the plan had to be in place long before words hit the page. Mapping out the course of this massive story was one of the most challenging yet most rewarding tasks of my time as an author.

A CO-AUTHOR IS A BLESSING

On a similar note, no book happens alone. This is especially true in the case of the Awakened trilogy.

When my publisher proposed the great idea of pairing me with a co-author, I somehow stumbled upon the devilishly handsome and very British Darren Wearmouth. Our partnership has evolved into a lifelong friendship of collaboration. I can’t express enough gratitude for his steadfast creativity and persistence to make this trilogy as great as we both knew it could be.

I highly recommend finding your Darren. When you’re stuck on a word or a turn of phrase, chances are, your co-author knows the exact right answer.

KILL YOUR FRIENDS (IN THE BOOK)

What’s the point of writing a thriller series about a race of monstrous creatures threatening humanity without killing off a few of your friends?

Over the course of the trilogy, I’ve fictionally murdered a lot of characters inspired by people in my life. And I can tell you honestly: nothing is more satisfying that describing a friend’s brutal death for thousands of people to read.

Is a creature tearing apart an old buddy from high school an honored tribute? Or is it because I’m secretly holding a grudge against them? They’ll never know. Either way, it’s a nice little surprise for them when they get around to reading the book (if those jerks ever do.)

EASTER EGGS BRIGHTEN EVERYONE’S DAY

As every writer knows, some days go smoother than others. Sometimes, you need an extra bit of spice to keep the words from blending together on the computer screen in front of you. For me, easter eggs have been that special seasoning.

Darren and I are lucky enough to have the support of a lot of fans of Impractical Jokers, so anytime we can give them a nod, we try to. In all three books, there are fun little references to fan-favorite episodes and inside jokes that keep the series hyper personal to me. And each time I read them back, they make me smile.

THE ENDING HAS TO BE RIGHT

At the end of the day, when you strip away all of the bloodshed, the atomic bombs, and the decades-long conspiracies, you’re left with the characters. And ideally, those characters are the reason you started writing in the first place. We’ve all probably read a fantastic book where the ending leaves us unsatisfied. To put in all the work of the previous two books and to have Cafferty’s story fall flat was a fate we weren’t willing to accept. Apart from tying together every loose end plot-wise, the emotional side of the ex-Mayor’s story needed to feel full and complete. I probably stared at those last chapters longer than I stared at the deed to my own house. The ending of a trilogy has to be right. It’s true of every story ever told and a lesson that every writer should have buried deep down inside.

***

JAMES S. MURRAY is a writer, executive producer, and actor, best known as “Murr” on the hit television show Impractical Jokers along with his comedy troupe, The Tenderloins. He has worked as the Senior Vice President of Development for NorthSouth Productions for over a decade and is the owner of Impractical Productions, LLC. He recently starred in Impractical Jokers: The Movie, and also appears alongside the rest of The Tenderloins, and Jameela Jamil, in the television series The Misery Index on TBS.

James S. Murray: Twitter | Instagram

Obliteration: Harper Collins

My Twitter account remains locked due to GG-style harassment of me (death threats, doxxing, harassing my followers and repliers) tied to the Internet Archive situation, but those who don’t follow me wouldn’t have seen my recent statements, so I thought it best to put something here, too.

Recently it has come to light that a handful of authors inside science-fiction and fantasy publishing have engaged in various acts of harassment and abuse against women. These authors are authors with which I am friendly, particularly online — Paul Krueger, Myke Cole, Sam Sykes — and I am deeply sorry if that friendliness or if me boosting their work and amplifying their voices has in any way given them cover for their actions or given them unearned trust. I never saw the harassment or abuse in play, but my ignorance of it is not an excuse, and I should be better about actively attempting to make spaces like conventions and conferences safe. Some of the women who were harassed or abused are friends or acquaintances, as well, and that makes me heartsick to realize that I didn’t know or see what they were going through. It’s not enough to simply go along to get along, but rather, to maintain a vigil and to be ever on the lookout for harassment and attempt to call it in when witnessed.

I’ve cut personal and professional ties with these men and will not be signal boosting them further. I’m listening to victims and believe them. The men have apologized but it’s not on me to accept, deny, or judge those apologies.