Kevin J. Anderson
From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia
And Kevin J. Anderson is the worst of the worst sci-fi novelist that ever lived. Most famous for his novelisation of The Eye of Argon by L. Ron Hubbard, he is also responsible for thirty-three Star Wars novels, eight StarCraft, twelveteen Titan A.E., a couple of X-Files rehashes, the leatherbound acid-free Heritage editions of Pokémon and the dribbling ass of what was once the Dune books. As a result he and Brian have been sued many times by the Original Dune fans, sometimes even the publishing companies of the Expanded Dune where sued.
He wrote an original work or two once, but sobered up soon after.
Kevin J. Anderson was created by a team of ketamine-addled computer scientists for the cause of bureaucratic jihad over the corpses of good stories: snatching your beloved memories in his gummy jaw like a demon Yorkshire terrier gone senile and shaking them in a desultory fashion while drenching them in drool. He was raised in small town Nebraska, an environment he describes as "a cross between a J.G. Ballard short story and a William Burroughs painting."
Kevin doesn't have a real home. He lives in the Rocky Mountains where he spends his time talking to himself about nothing in particular. Occasionally he records his verbal diarrhoea and releases it verbatim as novels. Rebecca visits him once a month to collect Dictaphone tapes and clean him.
Welcome to Dune, Mister Anderson
Kevin J. Anderson is the most reliable writer known to editorial science. Editors have too much work to do already — professionalism, delivering on time, is ZERO PERCENT OF THE WRITER'S JOB.
- You have young readers to serve: exposition, not pretentious "subtlety" or "allusion" that goes over their heads. Remember to give the events from five different viewpoints to make it clearer what's going on.
- The characters were established in the original; plot keeps things moving. The need for characterization can be addressed by telling the same events from five different viewpoints.
- Fantasy is sold by weight — keep that page count up! Describe events from five different viewpoints.
- Tell things from five different viewpoints.
- When in doubt, add more E-numbers.
You have a DUTY to the fans. Kevin has had three extra pairs of arms grafted onto his body to ensure he will meet his professional commitments. KEVIN J. ANDERSON is YOUR BEST GHOSTING VALUE.
“I wrote the plot outline before I started the epic. By the ninth book, I was bludgeoning the keyboard with my face, hating each and every word as I beat it out of the machine. If only I'd called Kevin!”
“He got someone in to ghost our wedding night. But I still copyedit for him.”
- The short, large-breasted woman next to him moved with awkward, marionette movements as she hurried to help him.
- "There should be a law against letting people dance unless they've had at least the last month to get the full experience. And it wouldn't be easy to find a body I'd want to know the biophysics? Does it matter?"
- Lights and decor, sounds and smells, bombarded them: perfumed steam, colored incense, musical vibrations, and the drone of conversation. Garth couldn't drink it all in fast enough. "Look at this! Oh, smell the air," Teresa said, seeing her expectations of a matte painting, projecting an illusion of vast size within a normal-sized room.
- "Especially not a pregnant one," Teresa said, looking at the large, short-breasted woman next to her. "Artists! Who can understand them?" Teresa looked at each other across the numbered squares on the hunt for new artistic inspiration: broad shoulders, blond hair, blue eyes, connect the dots. Connect with a squiggle and call that "creative." She often joined small religious groups or philosophical communes, trying to adjust to new heights, new weights, new degrees of muscle control.
“Fucking ... fuck. I read that fucking Cock-Gobbling Hack Writer Whores of Dune novelisation. I want to hurt Kevin J. Anderson. In the face.”
You Talifans are all the same. Kevin J. Anderson cannot be killed. Robert Jordan annoyed Kevin J. Anderson and had to finish his series himself. Kevin J. Anderson is what baby book reviewers' parents warn them about if they don't eat their broccoli. Kevin J. Anderson is what baby trees' parents warn them about if they don't jump out in front of enough cars. Kevin J. Anderson puked down the front of your shirt last night. AND he pissed your pants. You think he has a FACE?
KEVIN J. ANDERSON. ON AN ASTRAL MOTHERFUCKING PLANE. THE THREAT IS REAL.
He's apparently a very sweet, nice and sincerely lovely fellow, the sort of fan you wish you had more of at conventions, someone no-one has a bad word about (except his writing), and I almost felt guilty about this article until I read his writing again.