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While it lasted, Inside was a journalist's dream. I was hired by Kurt Andersen, Michael Hirschorn and Michael Ciepley as a contributing editor for the short-lived magazine, working alongside a group of funny, cynical and blazingly talented writers to generate magazine pieces while occasionally contributing a breaking story for the web site. When it all went kaput, the brief illusion that journalism could be fun AND pay off died with it.

Oh Harry, You Naughty Boy -- News feature for Inside.com on the emergence of Harry Potter porn, a variety of slash fiction that took off just before the release of Warner Brother's blockbuster. Copyright attorneys were summoned from summer vacations in Provence and Aspen to comment on hot boy-on-broomstick action... priceless. Story subsequently ran in the San Francisco Chronicle and the South China Post.

Yuen and What Army? -- Cover story on new media mogul Henry Yuen, who was at the time a business world demi-god. My story told of a darker side, outlining predatory legal maneuvers and a loopy obsession with electronic books. Then there was the sticky matter of the case of Yuen vs. Yuen, a divorce that ranks as one of the nastiest I've witnessed... Said Boston Globe media columnist Michael Prager: "My first reaction was 'Henry who?' I'd heard of his first invention, VCR Plus, but of himself I knew nothing, which writer Christopher Noxon says would have been Yuen's preference..."

In From the Cool -- Front-of-the-book feature in premiere issue about famed trendspotters DeeDee Gordon and Sharon Lee, and a system they developed to help corporations calculate and generate the ineffable quality of cool.

Fan Fare -- Feature from the last, unpublished issue of Inside Magazine about amateur films based on existing Hollywood properties. I watched a ton of terrible home movies with light sabers, but also some surprisingly good knockoffs that suggested the arrival of a whole new genre.



Oh Harry, You Naughty, Naughty Boy
 

October 18, 2001

Three words guaranteed to make parents of bookworms squirm, editors at Scholastic wince and attorneys at AOL Time Warner snap to attention: Harry Potter porn.

The phrase may sound like a sick joke, but it’s all too real to those charged with protecting the burgeoning Harry Potter empire of books, merchandise and movies. It’s one thing to tolerate unauthorized Web tributes to everyone’s favorite wizard-in-training, but the issue becomes much trickier when the guardians of copyright are confronted by hot boy-on-broomstick action.

Produced and consumed mostly by young women, naughty Harry Potter stories belong to the larger online phenomenon called slash fiction (slash refers to stories that pair male characters like Captain Kirk and Spock or Starsky and Hutch; stories about male-female sex are called simply het). Here’s a sampling of Harry Potter slash, taken from a novella called “Irresistible Poison,” about a budding romance between Harry and his archenemy Draco Malfoy:

His hands moved up to hold Harry’s startled face, and in the space of a next heartbeat he was kissing Harry, hard and full on the lips, his manner deeply passionate, hopelessly desperate …

What just happened?

He knew bloody well what just happened. He just kissed Harry Potter, that’s what happened. The thought of it made him nauseated, even though at the very same time an entrenched part of him yearned for the perverse, forbidden pleasure of it all over again.

In the world of Harry Potter slash, that’s relatively tame stuff — the same Singapore college student who penned the scene has posted much lustier scenarios in stories like “Forbidden Want” and “Taken by Force” on her Web site “Magical Intrigue.”

A Google.com search lists more than 70 Web sites devoted to Harry Potter slash with some hosting 100 or more stories apiece and others featuring vast galleries of fan art picturing Harry and his boarding school chums en flagrante. Meanwhile, many other slashers distribute stories on newsgroups devoted to unauthorized Harry Potter fan fiction. Slashers are careful to include disclaimers warning underage readers about sexual content, and most are careful to “age up” the characters, staying away from the period when the series began (when Harry was all of 11).

But those measures aren’t likely to calm executives at Warner Bros., the studio that’s already taken a hard stance against online material and domain names related to this weekend’s high-stakes release “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” Late last year, studio attorneys sent cease-and-desist orders to operators of several fan sites in the United States and Britain. A public relations meltdown followed, and the studio was pilloried in the press and shamed by a sweet-faced 16-year-old fan from Virginia — who organized a boycott and gave a Warner Bros. VP a thorough drubbing on MSNBC’s “Hardball.”

Just as that controversy was beginning to quiet down — Warner Bros. ended up dropping or settling cases against unauthorized sites, and the boycott was called off last month — along comes an even sleazier online affront to its wholesome brand. When studio executives learned about Harry Potter slash from this reporter late in August, they took four days to round up the troops from August sojourns in France and Aspen — then released a formal statement.

“It is not only our legal obligation, but also our moral obligation to protect the integrity of our intellectual properties,” the statement read. “This is especially true in the case of indecent infringement of any icon whose target audience is children.”

Although Warner Bros. goes on to declare its commitment to “protecting First Amendment rights,” it appeared that billable hours were about to start piling up. “We are considering all our options,” the statement concluded. (Meanwhile a representative from Scholastic, which retains the rights to J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books, said the children’s publisher was unaware of the phenomenon and did not respond to subsequent calls for comment.)

Attorneys familiar with copyright and anti-obscenity laws say the studios are well within their legal rights to go after slashers. They are likely to refer to so-called tarnishment provisions of federal trademark law, which have previously been used by the Dallas Cowboys to block distribution of a porn movie that included team uniforms and by Coca-Cola to stop the merchandising of posters featuring the familiar logo with the words “Enjoy Cocaine.”

But just because they can sue doesn’t mean they ought to. “The problem is that the act of taking legal action could trigger a public response that brings more attention to the offending material than it would have ever had otherwise,” says Chris Murray, chairman of the entertainment and media group at O’Melveny & Myers, a Los Angeles law firm that represents several studios. “I know of many cases in which a holder of intellectual property will ignore fan material by saying, ‘it’s not really hurting me, so why bother? It will die out on its own.”

“But I’d be surprised if that were the case here,” Murray adds. “None of the copyright owners that I’m aware of are likely to knowingly tolerate pornography.”

Most slashers, meanwhile, bristle at the suggestion that their work can be dismissed as knockoff erotica or demonized as kiddie porn. “I will take serious offense to anyone who labels my stories as ‘porn’ because it insults me as a writer — the majority of my stories are PG or R, and sex if any at all is only incidental to the plot and not its focus,” says a prolific slasher known as Rhysenn, a twentysomething straight woman who has written more than 20 Harry Potter slash and het stories along with a few novellas. “Pornography is crude and blatantly sexual; slash deals with characters and romance and emotions more than the physical aspect of the relationship alone.”

It’s true that most slash reads more like a paperback bodice ripper than like hard-core porn -- Rhysenn’s stories, for instance, are heavy on tortured descriptions of moony-moony desire with just a few detailed blow-by-blows (note to Hogwarts headmaster: if the broom shed’s rocking, you might try knocking). According to MIT scholar Henry Jenkins, who has tracked slash since its appearance in photocopied zines circulated at fan conventions, slash appeals to young women because it lets them experience romantic bonds in a mythological universe far removed from more familiar (and far scarier) world of boyfriends, dating and sex.

That’s certainly the case for a Harry Potter slasher from southern England known as Acassha, who admits that some may find it odd that a 19-year-old straight woman enjoys writing and reading what looks on the surface like gay porn. “That’s been the subject of debate in many a mailing list,” she writes via e-mail. “Some say it’s female porn, others that it gives us a chance to control men. Personally, I think it’s because we can’t stand the thought of reading something with a man and woman having sex. It’s squicky [slash slang for something that makes you uncomfortable], because you start thinking, ‘Well, I don’t do that … should I?’”

It’s doubtful, however, that Warner Bros., Scholastic or J.K. Rowling will have much sympathy for fans who say they’re entitled to write about the sex lives of underage magicians as a psychological tool for exploring their frustrated sexuality. With the first of a planned franchise of movies released Friday and the publicity campaign in full gear, Warner Bros. is more likely to greet Harry Potter slashers with more takedown orders than tolerance.

“If they do get aggressive, we know we’ll be the first in the firing line,” writes Acassha, who says she regularly receives e-mails accusing her of being a “sick pervert” from outraged Harry Potter fans. “We’ll be the first to be targeted in something like this, because it’s not seen as ‘normal.’ But that’s despite the fact that there are hundreds of thousands of us!”



Yuen What Army?
 

Gemstar-TV Guide billionarie Henry Yuen transformed TV – now he’s hell-bent on reinventing the way people read.

February 20, 2001

It all started with a phone call from a stranger. Sitting in a florescent-lit cubicle in the foothills of Silicon Valley, Martin Eberhard quickly warmed to the voice on the phone. Pleasant and professorial, the caller was full of high praise for Eberhard's company NuvoMedia Inc., developer of the Rocket e-book, a paperback-sized tablet billed as the Model T of the burgeoning e-book industry.

The caller suggested that their two companies could do some big business together, but there was just one problem. "I had no idea who this guy was," remembers Eberhard. "I had never heard of Henry Yuen."

Most people haven't. Which suits the bespectacled 53-year-old former math teacher just fine. Intense, secretive and highly persuasive, Yuen has emerged as a media baron capable of outmaneuvering the likes of News Corp., Liberty Media and Microsoft -- which through lawsuits, license fees or failed takeover bids, have all bent to the company Yuen heads, Gemstar-TV Guide.

Now after extracting heavy tolls from Murdoch, Malone and Gates, Yuen has targeted his most formidable opponent yet: Guttenberg. Yuen is convinced that readers everywhere are ready to ditch their dust-collecting volumes in favor of a slim gray box that contains the equivalent of a shelf crammed with books -- along with a stack of magazines and newspapers. He envisions ink and paper disappearing, home libraries emptying and late-night bookworms devouring mysteries by the dull glow of liquid crystal displays.

The seemingly casual call to Eberhard in August of 1999 was in fact a crucial first shot in an all-out assault on the e-book market. Within 60 days of meeting Eberhard, Yuen reached agreements to purchase not only NuvoMedia, but its closest competitor SoftBook Press Inc., while simultaneously brokering deals with Thomson Multimedia to mass produce two repurposed, redesigned RCA e-books in time for Christmas. In less than a year, Yuen leapfrogged over all his competitors to become the dominant force in digital publishing. His goal, he says, is simple: to wholly transform what he calls "the last standing legacy of yesteryear's media."

Yuen’s arrival in e-books represented a major development in the still embryonic e-book industry, but it’s relatively small stuff to Yuen. The total price of acquiring the two companies -- $400 million in stock -- represented less than three percent of the fully diluted shares of Gemstar-TV Guide. A darling on Wall Street, Gemstar-TV Guide is today valued at $20.9 billion, while Yuen’s personal worth is estimated at around $2 billion.

With his bemused smile, bowl haircut and engineer’s attire – he greets a visitor wearing khakis and a fleece vest bearing his corporate logo – Yuen doesn’t exactly strike fear in first-time acquaintances. But rivals have learned not to underestimate Yuen. One associate says Yuen personally handled every aspect of a complex technical e-book pact, easily fielding the volleys of a team of lawyers and engineers. Another says the divorced father of two college-age boys seems utterly uninterested in what money can buy, commuting to work from a Downtown apartment in a Lexus SUV. And with such deep pockets to draw from, Yuen has the luxury of patience. “He’s definitely not depending on this to make his numbers,” says one analyst. “This could be a complete failure and it’s not going to make much of a difference for Gemstar.”

He’ll need at least a few years to get some breathing room between himself and his competitors – Microsoft, and Adobe offer rival formats that now feature better text display than either RCA unit – and to overcome mounting suspicions about a system in which all downloads (and all fees) flow through Gemstar.

His entry into e-books comes at the peak of an incredible career that began soon after Yuen turned 40. During “a bit of a midlife crisis” while toiling as a researcher at TRW, Yuen and a few grad school pals invented VCR Plus, a relatively simple gadget that allows viewers to record upcoming shows with a few clicks of the remote. The system was a big hit, and Yuen parlayed a big IPO into a prime stake in the market for electronic program guides (EPGs), the scrolling TV menus that enable viewers to find, sort, and record the hundreds of channels offered by cable and satellite services. Bullish cable analysts believe EPGs could become the Yahoo! of interactive TV, predicting a $15 billion business by 2005.

With his technology now used in 8.5 million U.S. households, Yuen has dug himself into a position directly in the path of anyone aiming to enter the television market of tomorrow. And as Rupert Murdoch and John Malone discovered two years ago, Yuen doesn’t yield easily. After battling it out in court over Yuen’s EPG patents, Murdoch and Malone combined the resources of Malone’s United Video and Murdoch’s TV Guide in a $2.8 billion million hostile takeover bid. If Yuen had accepted the offer, he could have walked away $300 million richer. Instead, he convinced his board not to sell, waited a year, and then bit back. In October 1999, Yuen purchased TV Guide for $15 billion in a deal that left Murdoch with 45 percent stake in Gemstar.

Its no wonder then that Yuen’s arrival in the e-book market has sent pulses racing in publishing circles. Even as his new devices were running off the conveyor belt in October, the e-book made an appearance on "Oprah" --"It's amazing!" she crowed to her cheering faithful – and Yuen posed for publicity shots with publishing brass from HarperCollins and Penguin Putnam. Underscoring his commitment, Yuen announced he would spend $100 million promoting exclusive Gemstar editions of six new bestsellers.

Coming so soon after Steven King snubbed traditional publishers with the electronic-only release of the novella "Riding the Bullet," Yuen's plunge into e-books prompted top-level reconsideration of an area usually dismissed as the marginal enthusiasm of daffy futurists. "It's a tremendous vote of confidence in e-books to have a successful company like Gemstar involved," says David Steinberger, president of corporate strategy for Harper Collins, which is owned by Yuen’s junior partner Murdoch’s News Corp. and which granted Yuen exclusive rights to new novels by Jeffrey Archer and Susan Elizabeth Phillips. "Those of us in publishing have always known books are sexy, but those outside the industry sometimes forget that."

A few publishers admit to being a bit cowed by the shrewd CEO with grand visions for their industry. “He’s determined to make this business work – and knowing Henry, he’ll find a way,” says Larry Kirshbaum, president and CEO of Time Warner Trade Publishing, which granted Gemstar exclusive digital rights to new releases by James Patterson and Brad Meltzer. “I can’t always tell what his next move will be, but I’ve found that Henry is about ten steps ahead of the rest of us.”

Yuen certainly got heads scratching in December, when rumors percolated into the financial pages that he was about to buy book behemoth Barnes & Noble. Yuen kept quiet, leaving analysts floundering for a motive – was Gemstar really going retail, or was this a telescopic play for e-books? Whatever his intention, Yuen shut down the rumor mill a few weeks later, saying talks between the two companies were directed only at “strategic alliances.” “We’re working hard to find win-win ways to convert Barnes and Noble customers into e-book customers,” he says.

Even as Yuen was stirring up the publishing pool, the team that built the Rocket was learning that their new boss was not quite the deferential admirer he first appeared to be. Eberhard says that within a month of acquiring NuvoMedia, Yuen began a major overhaul of the company. In its new incarnation, the Rocket would only display text downloaded via a central server, entirely scrapping Eberhard's open, web-based technology. Meanwhile, company managers marched into NuvoMedia offices unannounced and fired longtime employees on the spot.

"I got used to coming in and seeing my employees crying, seeing programs arbitrarily cancelled and seeing responsibilities stripped," says Eberhard. Mass resignations followed, with Eberhard and his partner Mark Tarpenning stepping aside before the end of the year. Of the 60 NuvoMedia employees at the time of the buyout, "maybe six or seven remain," he says.

The turmoil doesn't surprise Forrester Research senior analyst Daniel O'Brien, who closely tracks the e-book market. He says Yuen's genius is not in managing people, but in identifying and fencing off vast territories of intellectual property. "It's clear he's trying to lock up the patents and then go after anybody who tries to launch a competing product," he says. "That's his strategy."

For his part, Yuen denies that the discontent at NuvoMedia was anything out of the ordinary, especially in these days of strategic re-thinks and layoffs in the tech and digital sectors. After the purchase, "there was great relief and a great deal of joy before politicking sets in, which is always true," he says. It was his impression, Yuen says, that his new employees were "greatly happy."

The transition was smoother at SoftBook, where CEO Jim Sachs – an e-book pioneer who previously developed the Macintosh mouse and the animatronic toy Teddy Ruxpin -- quickly cozied up to Yuen and convinced him to spare much of the SoftBook technology and its staff. Andrew Preston, president and chief operating officer for SoftBook at the time of the buyout, says less than 20 percent of the staff was cut loose after the merger (and while Preston lost his job, he says they “parted amicably.”)

“Henry could be off-putting, but he’s got a very different style than we’re used to at Valley startups,” he says. “He’s got a much more methodical, close-to-the-vest approach.”

Yuen never let slip, for example, during extensive talks about the rollout of the new SoftBook – code name Mini Me – that he was simultaneously negotiating with the French electronics giant Thomson to take over manufacturing. “From where Henry was sitting, we were little gnats on the back of an elephant,” says Preston. “He had a much larger vision and a much bigger financial position to see through.”

So big, in fact, that Gemstar has stirred up major anxiety among competitors and e-book enthusiasts. One former associate calls Yuen "a world class control freak" whose aggressive pursuit and protection of patents is turning a formerly wide-open market of innovators into a legal minefield. Privately dubbed "the patent terrorist" by rivals in the cable industry, Yuen has not been shy about taking competitors -- including General Instrument, Scientific Atlanta, Echostar, Pioneer Electronics and TiVo -- to court over their use of technology he believes is rightfully his. And so far, his legal record is chillingly good, with zero losses and two big victories.

"Let's just say we're keenly aware of Henry's reputation," says Bob Garthwaite, vice president of worldwide sales and marketing for Franklin Electronic Publishers, which is releasing the competing eBookMan this month (FEB). "But we're certain we can more than hold our own."

Meanwhile Yuen has been on the receiving end of his share of legal challenges. Echo Star and Pioneer have both lodged suits claiming that Gemstar has conspired to create an unfair monopoly in the market for EPGs. And back before Yuen got cozy with Malone and Murdoch, TV Guide pursued a similar line of attack.

And then there’s a certain LA County Superior Court case filed under Yuen vs. Yuen. In September 1997, Yuen’s ex-wife Molly filed papers claiming that her husband secretly divorced her a year after establishing Gemstar, forging her name to dissolution papers in an attempt to protect his growing fortune. In court documents, Molly said she was "absolutely stunned" upon learning she had been legally divorced from her husband for ten years, and that she only discovered his "vast wealth" when he quickly cleared a credit card purchase of a $67,000 piano. Yuen's attorneys denied all the charges, insisting she knew about the divorce all along and fabricated the story in an attempt to extort a larger settlement. Yuen settled the case last summer, though Molly’s lawyer declined to reveal terms of the deal. (This is a clearly a sore subject to the intensely private Yuen; While he discussed his e-book strategy at length with [Inside], he cancelled interviews and declined any further comment when informed this story might include mention of his ex-wife's lawsuit.)

•••

For such a formidable corporation, Gemstar keeps a very modest house. No leafy campus or imposing black tower for Yuen -- he's content with his headquarters in half a rented floor in a beige stucco office building in downtown Pasadena. Visiting Yuen feels less like meeting a titan of the new economy than checking in with your neighborhood dentist.

Yuen leaves it to a display in his main corridor to do the impressing. Visitors are escorted down a hall flanked by row upon row of wood-finish plaques bearing the license numbers of more than 120 patents that Gemstar controls. Marking the boundaries of the intellectual property Yuen so fiercely protects, these plaques -- not grand entryways or cushy offices -- are what Gemstar is all about.

The first patent Yuen registered dates back to 1988. The son of a successful Hong Kong attorney, Yuen moved to the United States at the age of 17, studying mathematics at the University of Wisconsin in Madison and Cal Tech in Pasadena. After graduation, he joined TRW, publishing more than 70 papers on the behavior of ocean waves.

Yuen stayed at TRW for 18 years and very well may have ended his career there, if it weren't for an everyday frustration that formed the basis of his late entry into entrepreneurship. The story goes that one day this 40-year-old Ph.D. found himself flummoxed in an effort to program his VCR to tape a Red Sox playoff game. He and a Cal Tech buddy named Daniel Kwoh came up with VCR Plus. The success of the system – it is now used in 180 million homes around the world – might suggest that Yuen is, essentially, a gearhead who hit paydirt thanks to his technical wizardry. But the fact is that Yuen has always had much more on his mind than widgets.

Even as Yuen toiled by day at TRW, he earned a law degree at night, setting up a private practice that catered to Asian-American businesses (and that served as the first office for Gemstar). That practice came in handy when it came time to find a market for his first invention. That’s because the genius of VCR Plus wasn't so much in its gadgetry -- it's a relatively simple system -- but in getting electronics manufacturers and publishers of TV listings to participate. They not only participated; they paid for the privilege. Last fiscal year, VCR Plus license fees accounted for 45% of the company's total $225 million in revenue. "What he did with VCR Plus was absolutely brilliant," says John Kelleher, general manager of electronic program guides for the Tribune Media Services. "He turned around a nearly impossible situation and got everyone to pay him."

Yuen next set out to cure another affliction common among couch potatoes; the stupefied daze that accompanies attempts to navigate the hundreds of channels offered by satellite and cable services. Yuen spotted a solution in technology then in the works at two tech startups, Starsight Telecast and VideoGuide. Flush with capital from his recent IPO (and foreshadowing his strategy with e-books), Yuen gobbled up the two companies, locked up their patent portfolios and promptly took action against anyone pursuing something similar.

When the TV Guide merger was finalized last summer, Yuen obliterated any remaining suspicion that he was a minor leaguer mixing it up with the big boys. But while the deal solidified his stature, it also put forced him into an uneasy alliance with Murdoch. Shortly after the close of the merger, John Malone swapped the bulk of his Gemstar holdings to Murdoch in exchange for a bigger chunk of News Corp, leaving Murdoch’s Sky Global Networks with a hefty 43 percent stake in Gemstar. And while Yuen insists that he bears no ill-will toward the man who once tried to forcibly oust him – he says the pair are frequent dinner companions and even hung out together at the Sydney Olympics – it’s hard to believe that the News Corp. chairman’s ambitions for interactive television will be satisfied by a spot on the Gemstar board.

“These were two bitter enemies in a very, very hostile relationship,” says Nick Capuano, a banker for Trust Company of the West who has known Yuen for five years. “There was a lot of skepticism about how it would work out.”

So far, the hyphen between Gemstar and TV Guide appears to be binding tight. Yuen acknowledges that there are big cultural differences – he says he was “surprised to find that the TV Guide satellite sales office in Los Angeles is three times larger than our entire company.” But both sides have certainly benefited from the resolution of their patent disputes, with cable and satellite companies now back in the rich EPG market after waiting on the sidelines to see who would prevail.

Many of these potential customers are now suffering from sticker shock, says Stacy Bingler Forbes, a research analyst with Janco Partners in Englewood, Colo. While Gemstar-TV Guide has forged one big deal with AT&T, Forbes says many other long-term pacts are stuck in a stalemate.

“Now that they’re the only game in town, Gemstar can jack up the price a bit,” she says. “I think right now everyone is holding out to get the best deal they can.”

And while Gemstar signed a 12-year licensing deal with AoL two years ago, a longtime rift with AoL’s new partner Time Warner (which at one point blocked the Gemstar EPG signal over its cable lines) threatened that fat, $63 million-per-year contract. “Time Warner has suddenly gone from being one of their biggest enemies to being one of their biggest customers,” says Capuano. “That’s not going to heal overnight.”

But as the company rolls out a more interactive version of its EPG that allows viewers to shop at home using their remote, analysts say overall prospects are still very rosy. Janco Partners estimates that Gemstar will bring in $85 million licensing and selling advertising for its EPGs this year, along with $167 million from TV Guide Magazine and $30 million from its broadcast TV Guide channel, to say nothing of the smattering of television stations left behind by Malone’s United Video, including WGN in Chicago and KTTV in Los Angeles.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Gemstar is how little labor it expends for all its boffo revenues. The company lists just 180 employees on its payroll; Yuen and his close associate and CFO Elsie Leung share an assistant and oversee almost all company business personally. "It's pure margin," says Capuano. "They've got R&D guys, lawyers and that's it basically."

Which is the main reason why Wall Street analysts have remained smitten with Gemstar stock, with most rating it a “strong buy” even as its Nasdaq-index listed stock has sunk with the lowering tech tide. Way down from its split-adjusted all-time high of $107 in March, the stock hit a low of $33 in December, but has since rebounded to hover around $50.

Yuen says he’s not overly troubled by the gyrations of his stock. “I don’t like to see what’s happening – but the reality is you have to ask yourself, ‘Is this because I didn’t do something right?’ I don’t believe so. I think we’ve delivered everything and we are on track.”

+++

After finding fortune in the mass medium of television, why is Yuen bothering to crack the book market? Americans spend an average of seven hours a day watching TV, while literacy rates continue to decline. Isn't what Yuen is attempting something like building an absinthe distillery after making a fortune in beer?

Yuen says the appeal is partly personal. While he's never cared much for television, he's an avid reader of popular and science fiction. He says he's a longtime fan of the cyberpunk author William Gibson and ranks James Clavell's "Shogun" and Frank Herbert's "Dune" as favorite novels.

More to the point, Yuen sees a chance to establish himself as a tollkeeper in the new publishing paradigm -- much in the same way he has staked a claim in the broadcast world. There are billions to be made, he insists. "The theoretical savings of reading on my device versus reading on paper is enormous," he says. "Probably 70 percent of the cost of a book is in publishing, distribution and returns. We are literally taking a $10 billion industry and saying, here's $7 billion back. There's something in it for everybody -- for the consumer, the author, the publisher and for us."

At the moment, however, few are making actual money on e-books, and no one expects to for some time. Jupiter Communications estimates that fewer than 50,000 e-book hardware devices have sold in the U.S., with an estimated 1.9 million by the end of 2005, hardly a major threat to dead tree publishers.

But for many bookish techies, the promise is just too enticing to resist. Last year Microsoft released its Microsoft Reader software for handhelds and PCs, with Redmond e-book evangelist Dick Brass declaring that “twenty years from now, 90 percent of everything will be published electronically.” Meanwhile in August, the software giant Adobe acquired Glassbook, which manufactures another dedicated device, this one featuring an even more crystal clear display. Smaller players include NetLibrary’s Peanut Press and AportisDoc.

Beating back these rival formats is just the first of Yuen’s problems. The biggest stumbling block for everyone in the e-book market proved too much for early models by Franklin Electronics, which released an early version back in 1986, and Sony, which launched Data Discman in 1991. Neither caught on, almost entirely due to the lack of available titles. It’s a classic chicken-and-egg problem: without the simultaneous efforts of both publishers and manufacturers, the container cracks and the content spoils.

Which explains Yuen's persistent wooing of publishers. Yuen knows his gadget is only as compelling as the books it displays. In exchange for periods of exclusive e-book availability for new releases by best-selling authors, Yuen has offered the kind of promotional support usually reserved for Hollywood blockbusters. "He made them an offer they couldn't refuse," says Forrester Research analyst O'Brien. "No one else was willing to step up and spend millions of dollars on e-books, for quite rational reasons. The publishers are getting a free ride, basically."

It’s a ride most publishers are happy to take. Steve Cowen, senior vice president of St. Martin’s Press, says Yuen came to the bargaining table offering to promote a new thriller by Robert Ludlum to the tune of $1.5 million. “Henry’s offering us something more than just making our title available in a fancy new format,” he says. “He’s got something to trade. If I had to spend that money myself, it would be 100 percent out of pocket for me. This business is too new not to test these kinds of ideas.”

While St. Martins has released titles in rival formats, other publishers say they prefer to stand by their man. “We made the decision that instead of going crazy and establishing ten different systems for ten different platforms, we’d stick with this one,” says John Schline, vice president and corporate director of business affairs for Penguin Putnam, which gave Gemstar exclusive digital rights to novels by Patricia Cornwell, Ken Follett and James French.

Meanwhile a few outside the big publishing houses are annoyed that the corporate newcomer has been greeted so warmly. “There’s no market at all – so why not let someone else bother to spend the time and effort making it,” says literary agent John Brockman. “At this point it’s a great way to lose a lot of money and for publishers to avoid doing their real job, which is selling authors’ books.”

But publishers know they can’t ignore convergence, and Yuen has won them over partly by playing to their worst fears. The Gemstar devices are the only e-books that decrypt text page by page and communicate directly with a central server, bypassing the Internet entirely. This makes his system virtually unhackable (while also putting Gemstar close to the cash register in every e-book transaction). Yuen argues that competitors – especially Microsoft – will inevitably summon publisher's worst nightmare: a peer-to-peer market for pirated books.

"Encryption is uniquely unsuitable for content protection," he says. "A com sci 101 student, probably in high school, can crack an encrypted book. You can have iron-clad delivery but when I send it to you, no one can stop you from cracking the code -- And the same person who may not pick a dollar bill off the floor may be more than happy to go to a site and read whatever's there, without worrying about if its copyright protected or not."

The pitch hits home with publishers. "We are determined not to have books get away from us in the way that music got away from record companies," says Adam Rothberg, a spokesman for Simon & Schuster, which gave Yuen a 30-day exclusive on Ed McBain's "Candyland" in December. "Microsoft came along with no copyright protection built in at all."

But while publishers may fret, it’s not likely readers will ever clamor for pirated e-books the way music fans madly swap favorite Britney Spears singles. "There's simply never going to be a big Napster-like market for books," says O'Brien. "University presses have put whole texts online and seen sales increase. There's an incredible opportunity here for publishers, but they've been too terrified to take it."

Besides, cracking a sophisticated encryption code isn’t the only way to make a book available online. “The biggest threat to security isn’t from hackers – it’s from scanners,” says Bob Bruce, president of the trade association Open eBook Forum (which lists Gemstar as a member). Armed with a scanner equipped with a speedy paper feeder and simple conversion software, “you can make a digital version of a book in about 15 minutes. It’s easy and cheap and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

After his hasty departure from NuvoMedia, it’s no wonder that Eberhard sees an ulterior motive in Yuen’s pontificating against piracy. “It's not about security for Henry Yuen,” he says. “It's about control."

+++

It's too early to say whether Yuen's bet on e-books will pay off, but expectations have already diminished considerably. At the October launch of the two Gemstar devices -- the black-and-white Rocket descendant retails at $299, while a bigger, spiffier color model from SoftBook goes for $599 -- Thomson sales reps said they hoped to sell between three and seven million units in 2001. No word on holiday sales yet, but observers say the buzz in the book world has been lukewarm at best.

Late in December, Forrester Research released a study proclaiming that "e-books will flop," reversing more hopeful estimates floated earlier in the year. Digital delivery of custom printed books, textbooks and e-books will account for $7.8 billion by 2006, Forrester predicts, but just $251 million will come from e-book devices.

"People just aren't going to pay so much for something that does so little," says Mike Heikka, an attorney and contributor to the webzine eBookNet. "They haven't given consumers enough reason to make the switch. The justification that you can put eight or nine books in a device -- that's fine for the few people who travel all the time with lots of books. But portability is about all they're offering."

Yuen acknowledges that the e-book is pricier than he'd like. "Pricing is a funny game," he says. Soon enough, however, Gemstar will make enough on its cut of every download -- as much as 20 percent of every e-book title—that the price of the devices will sink to $100-$200, a target he hopes to reach by 2002.

But while competing models come with organizers, MP3 players, sound recorders and other features, Yuen maintains that reading is important enough to warrant a dedicated device. "Every bit of this box has to be designed in such a way that it enhances the reading experience," he says. "When you're reading for leisure, just like when you're watching TV, you want to lie back and enjoy -- not sit forward and interact. You want to be fed information."

Beyond economic or technical hurdles, the biggest obstacle facing Yuen – and all his e-book competitors -- is much more basic. Even as consumers embrace PDAs, PVCs and DVDs, the book remains sacrosanct for many readers. Most people simply can't fathom purchasing data rather than bound pages and can never see themselves happily reading on a twitchy backlit screen. Tony Hendra, original editor of National Lampoon and president of founder of the new electronic-based publishing venture Gigawit, calls predictions of mass-market acceptance "millennial hogwash."

"Books are almost genetically installed in us," he says. "They remain the fundamental medium. They are the perfect one-to-one, author-to-reader medium. That's going to be very hard for anyone, no matter how powerful or well-financed they are, to overthrow."

Even if he could single-handedly close every paper mill in America, it would likely be just the beginning for Henry Yuen. “Henry has very long term vision,” says SoftBook’s Preston. “This battle is not going to be won in the next four quarters – changes in this market, and in people’s behavior, take place over a long time. But when we get there, I expect to see Henry at the front of the line.”



In From the Cool
 

The post-cool huntresses unleash a killer database

December 12, 2000

DeeDee Gordon and Sharon Lee know what’s up. They know what cool kids are listening to (Slipknot, Jurassic 5), what they’re wearing (aviator glasses, low-slung jeans) and even what’s floating around their hipster heads (paganism is cool right now, alienation is always cool).

DeeDee and Sharon have made careers helping corporations that court the youth market avoid looking like clueless dorks. They met while scouting sneaker designs at a shoe show in Las Vegas, then teamed up to create the L Report, a quarterly journal that tracked the preferences, purchases and hangouts of young trend-setters. Subscribers paid $20,000 a year for the benefit of knowing the precise moment when Hush Puppies or goatees or Tai-Bo or were cool, and when those very same things flagged you as hopelessly out-of-touch.

Their talent tracking such a slippery subject resulted in a movie deal, a rash of imitators and even a new addition to the English lexicon: coolhunting. As in, “DeeDee went coolhunting in Tokyo and spotted a kid wearing shower sandals.”

But these days, the mere mention of coolhunting prompts the rolling of eyes. Leave it to the original coolhunters to declare that coolhunting is uncool. They’re over it.

“After we got all that attention, a lot of people jumped on the bandwagon,” says Sharon. “People were popping up all over saying, ‘I’m cool! I know all about these things! It’s all about butterflies!’”

And if there’s one thing DeeDee and Sharon would be pleased to avoid, it’s squabbling with other self-anointed arbiters of cool over the new Limp Biscuit CD or hoochie mama pumps. “When you go down that path, it turns really frivolous really fast,” Sharon says. All of which explains why DeeDee and Sharon sound as sober as tax accountants when the topic turns to Look-Look, the market research firm they opened last year. (They won’t name names, but studios, car manufacturers and cosmetic companies among their 30 clients.) The company is designed, says DeeDee, as “a Reuters of youth culture,” helping corporate clients learn about and fit in with the coolie crowd ages 14-30. To get an accurate picture of this swelling demographic – which boasted $130 billion in purchasing power last year – DeeDee and Sharon holed up for a year to build a web-based system that allows corporate clients to interface with the nation’s hipster elite in real time.

It’s a system that DeeDee describes as nothing less than a machine that can calculate cool. They start with a network of 10,000 respondents recruited for their tastemaking cred –fashionistas, ravers, skatepunks and other trendsetters whose tastes today will supposedly spill over to the average Gap shopper tomorrow. Participants are ranked in a sort of Mary Kay pyramid, earning money and prizes by continually rating and responding to bands, brands or whatever. Their opinions are collected and sorted in an online database that corporations pay a base fee of $20,000 a year to access.

Say a record company exec wants to check the coolness quotient of a new CD’s cover art. Rather than taking the traditional route -- rounding up teens in suburban malls or mailing out bundles of multiple-choice questionnaires -- clients can schedule an online forum with Look-Look’s entire database, or zero in on a target audience as limited as, say, Latino girls in major markets who bought the latest Christina Aguillara CD.

“It’s really fast and relatively cheap,” says DeeDee. “You don’t have to recruit anyone, you don’t have to rent any space and you don’t have to wait weeks to get your answers.”

By digitizing the process of market research, Sharon and DeeDee hope to get away from what they call “old-school ways of looking at humans.” The traditional approach is not only slower and costlier, says Sharon; it encourages dumbed-down campaigns that only serve to make kids snicker with superiority.

“You end up with all these commercials with snowboarders jumping out of airplanes and shit like that,” says DeeDee. “Or else kids saying, you know, ‘That’s dope!’ or ‘Awesome!’ Kids see right through that.”

Competitors doubt the depth or reliability of Look-Look’s web-obsessed system. “If you’re doing a quick quantitative survey, that might be fine,” says Danielle Craven, research manager for the Illinois market research firm Teen Research Unlimited. “But there’s no replacement for sitting down with kids, establishing some trust and asking them questions face to face. In-person contact is how you get to the core of an issue.”

DeeDee and Sharon counter that they get better responses because of the frequency of their contact, enabling them to detect trends or fads that might otherwise fly below the radar. A year ago, as goth and metal acts were overtaking the charts, DeeDee and Sharon detected a passionate fringe movement around twee English folkies like Nick Drake and Belle & Sebastian. Recently they’ve warned retailers that young tastemakers are flocking to 99 Cent Stores, which have captured their hearts by stocking such hidden treasures as Jar Jar Binks underwear or “I love Jesus” hair clips.

Gathering such intelligence has meant obsessing a lot less over conventionally mod stuff like Japanese animation or French rappers and a lot more over efficient business models and database retrieval techniques. In her coolhunting days, DeeDee was known for her yellow Trans Am and flamboyant hairstyles that changed color every few weeks. Now she tools around town in a late-model Caddilac, while her hair has settled into a plain-girl brown. About the only thing out of the ordinary in their offices is the yapping of DeeDee’s miniature poodle Hot Lady. “Everything we’ve been doing on the back end is not sexy at all,” admits DeeDee. “We’re too busy right now to worry about being cool.”



Fan Fare
 

Amateur filmmakers say their work is the sincerest form of flattery, but Hollywood studios call it copyright infringement.

One night in 1977, during a giggly late-night dinner at a San Francisco Chinese restaurant, a pair of Star Wars fans reenacted the climactic battle scene using bottles of soy sauce as spaceships. Convinced they were on to something, they got to work on "Hardware Wars," an $8,000 epic that featured flying toasters and killer waffle irons. Fan filmmaking was born.

Fast forward 20 years to the re-release of the original Star Wars and the appearance of yet another fan film. Shot in the desert outside Los Angeles by a group of movie industry worker bees ("All of us are below-the-line schmos," says director Kevin Rubio), the short film "Troops" borrowed the format of the TV show "Cops" to follow the workaday hassles of Storm Troopers patrolling the planet Tatooine. Again, a clever knockoff caught the backdraft of Lucas’ juggernaut and became a cult hit, but this time with a convergence twist. Mass distribution of "Troops" on bootleg videotapes and on Star Wars Web sites inspired a new generation of fans to get busy poaching their favorite content with new digital video gear and off-the-shelf editing software.

Look around the Web today and you’ll find hundreds of amateur movies based not only on "Star Wars," but virtually every major Hollywood franchise. They include dozens of phony trailers for the upcoming "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, an animated battle between heroes of "Star Trek" and "Star Wars," an episode of X-Files in which a pudgy Mulder investigates Elvis sightings, a slapdash clip reel of action director Wong Kar-Wai and a few full-length features about comic book superheroes.

"I stole every second of footage in my film," says a Los Angeles video editor whose bogus trailer for the next Star Wars installment has so far attracted more than 3 million downloads. "The Internet is new and rules and regulations are iffy, so I put it out there and figured I could get away with it."

These amateurs have discovered that there’s nothing quite like aping an established franchise to attract eyeballs. For a few weeks, the fan film "George Lucas in Love" was outselling "The Phantom Menace" among video customers on Amazon.com. Meanwhile an hour-long Spiderman feature, in which a mail clerk at the Baltimore aquarium dons a red bodysuit and swings from a six-story building, has been downloaded some 200,000 times from the site localorigination.com. And a digitally-goosed Super-8 movie made by a Superman fan in Goffstown, New Hampshire was racking up 3,500 hits a day when lawyers for DC Comics dashed off a nasty takedown order.

"I immediately shut it down," says "Superman: The Super 8 Movie" director Mark Kimball. "I’m one guy against a wall of cash. If they wanted, I’m sure they could have done a lot of damage to me."

Not all fan films look like B-roll from the Ed Wood archive. Recently fan filmmakers have begun releasing shorts that mimic the special effects and marketing strategies employed by major studios. Accompanied by teaser trailers, promotional posters and even fan sites, these home movies disguised as blockbusters have slipped undetected into territory Hollywood studios claim as their own.

A 30-minute feature called "The Dark Redemption" was the first sign of things to come. Shot on a Sydney soundstage with a budget of $30,000 and cast of local TV stars including an actor who had a minor part in the original "Star Wars," the movie looks more like a cut-rate cable show than a Lucas production, but it signaled a major escalation in a genre more commonly associated with kids playing with plastic lightsabers. By comparison, the fan film community was abuzz a few months earlier over "Kid Wars," a short directed by a 14-year-old boy who recreates scenes from the original with a cast of tots wielding Nerf weapons and squirt guns.

The ante was upped again this past January, when the Star Wars fan site theforce.net posted a preview for a film called "Duality" featuring a tantalizing glimpse of a gleaming silver temple hovering over a sub-burnt alien landscape. When the movie was released a few weeks later, the same die-hard Star Wars fans let down by last summer’s "Phantom Menace" were left feeling the force once again --- thanks to a stunning six minutes of artful effects and swordplay that looks for all the world like something cooked up on a good day at Industrial Light and Magic. Says Jeff Yankey, who manages the fan film section of the Web site theforce.net: "It just smokes everything that came before it."

As quality improves and audiences enlarge, the guardians of intellectual property are being forced to confront yet another digital mutant swarming at the gates. There are few guideposts for negotiating this unfamiliar territory. One is section 107 of the federal copyright act, which protects the "fair use" of copyrighted materials. Additionally, courts will traditionally allow parodies, satires and documentaries about established works. But there appears to be little defense against dramatic reworkings of original content or the wholesale lifting of music, costumes or other copyrighted materials.

And while the vast majority of fan films appear to run afoul of copyright law, studio attorneys are well aware that prosecution could result in a backlash among die-hard fans and reams of nasty p.r. (witness the public drubbing Warner Brothers has taken over its prosecution of "Harry Potter" fan sites.) And until very recently, there hasn’t been much point. After all, how worked up can a well-heeled studio attorney get about bringing down the hammer on a kid with a store-bought costume and a Camcorder?

"The question of whether it’s bad business to aggressively pursue fan-based content is a very difficult issue," says Chris Murray, Chairman of the entertainment and media department at O’Melveny & Myers, which counts several studios as clients. "But legally, I don’t think there’s much question that most fan films constitute actionable copyright infringement."

So far, however, studios seem flummoxed -- or completely unaware -- of the phenomenon. A representative for Sony, which is producing the upcoming Spiderman feature, says "our attorneys have not done any studies" of fan films. And Sandra Ortiz, senior vice president of business affairs for 20th Century Fox, says she doesn’t know of any formal studio strategy related to fan films. But according to Ortiz, Fox would likely "have major issues" with a fan film like "Tie-Tanic," a clever cut-and-paste job in which Imperial fighters attack the Titanic to protect the Star Wars franchise (In overdubbed dialogue, Vader warns his minions that "the ability to control the medium for 20 years is insignificant next to the power of a good chick flick.")

"They’re using our actors, our stories and our product and they’re manipulating it in a way we have no control over," says Ortiz. "There are all kinds of copyright infringement, trademark infringement and even talent-residual issues to address here."

Studio attorneys would do well to study the nuanced approach of former Super 8 hobbyist George Lucas, who has had 25 years to figure out how to deal with copy-cats. Lucas encourages movies protected under fair use statues, tolerates efforts that swipe some protected material and goes after filmmakers who attempt to profit from it. The strategy is expressed on the Star Wars Fan Film Network, a Lucas Film joint project with AtomFilms that offers production tips, access to a sound effect library and free hosting -- even paying filmmakers a portion of revenue from banner ads.

"Our fans are our core foundation and with the Web we have a wonderful way to maintain our relationship," explains Jim Ward, vice president of marketing for Lucas Film Ltd. "With the official site, we’ve created an environment where fan filmmakers can show their stuff."

But what at first appears to be a bold embrace of borderline digital content is actually a pretty safe play. Noticeably absent from the official site are ambitious fan films like "Duality" or "The Dark Redemption" – the Fan Film Network only hosts "spoofs and documentaries," which are protected by copyright law anyway. And Lucas Film has made it clear that they will take action against anyone who attempts to directly profit from their work.

That attempt hasn’t been altogether successful. Bootleg tapes featuring "Troops," "Hardware Wars" and other fan films routinely fetch upwards of $20 a pop on eBay, and at comic book shops and conventions. There is in fact a bustling gray market in bootleg fan films of all sorts, says Dan Poole, director of the Superman tribute "The Green Goblin’s Last Stand."

"Copies of ‘Green Goblin’ turn up online all the time," he says. "It makes my blood boil. I’ve never tried to make money off this, so I take real offense when some scumbag comes along and tries to profit from my work."

While fan filmmakers may not profit directly, economics do play a part in many amateur productions. Poole made his movie as part of an unabashed effort to land a job on the Sony-produced "Spiderman" project, while the makers of "Duality" say they also plan to circulate their project as a demo reel.

"We’re trying to get our names out there," says Dave Macomber, who runs a martial arts studio in Santa Barbara when not toiling with Macintosh filmmaking software. "We’re hoping someone will come along and say, ‘If these guys can do this with three grand, just think what can they do with five million.’"

While Macomber and his partner Kevin Jones are true novices, many of the films that receive the most recognition are produced by professionals using production equipment in off-hours. Rubio, whose film "Troops" is cited as the grandfather of the current wave, parlayed the experience into a development deal at the USA Network. Even back in 1977, Ernie Fosselius and Michael Wiese were both working filmmakers when they made "Hardware Wars."

"Fans talk about ‘Hardware Wars’ like we were kids with student cameras and nothing could be further from the truth," says Weise, who now runs an independent production company out of a cottage in Cornwall, England. "We were both in our thirties and really just hoped for a chance to meet George Lucas. It was just a goof really."

It would be a mistake, however, to dismiss fan films as desperate attempts to advance studio careers. Henry Jenkins, director of the Comparative media Studies department at MIT, takes a much loftier view, calling fan filmmakers renegades who challenge the "monopoly power over cultural mythologies."

Jenkins says fan filmmakers are reviving pre-Industrial Age folk traditions, in which "common mythologies were built up over time as people added elements that made them more meaningful to their own contexts."

That doesn’t change the fact that all but a few fan films are still pretty awful. By definition, fan films are made by people who have mastered the minutia of a made-up universe – the sewage schematics on the Death Star, say, or the complete dating history of Captain Kirk – but who also may remain oblivious to more earthly matters like sound mixing, story arcs or lens caps.

Witness "Alien vs. Predator," a spasmodic montage starring two rubbery black shapes that look less like creatures from outer space than luggage with teeth. Elsewhere, you can witness hefty girls from Ohio training in the Jedi arts or a duel between the captain of the Free Enterprise and a villain called Darth Bobo (catchprase: "Never underestimate the power of a dark clown.")

And while most fan filmmakers want nothing less than to upset their heroes – "We don’t want to make uncle George mad at us," says Macomber – a few are using fan films in an attempt to influence, mock or challenge their favorite franchise. Justin Young, who operates the Web site fanfilmxchange.com out of his Kentucky dorm room, says he hoped his own fan film "Ascension" might convince producers to resurrect the "Highlander" series. And on posting boards where fan filmmakers go to trade tips and gossip, there’s been talk of creating a entirely new "fan cut" of "The Phantom Menace." (Note to Jar Jar Binks: kiss your ass goodbye.)

As digital cameras get cheaper and broadband connections more common, we can expect to see more fans rework favorite films, explore the worlds of minor characters, even create endings they wish they'd seen. By then, the guardians of intellectual property may have a major problem on their hands. "I hesitate to raise the red flag, but the industry can’t ignore this much longer," says Jenkins. "They’ll all be running out sending cease and desist orders as fast as they can. And if they shut them down now, they won’t have them when they need them. Going after your audience is suicide."




 
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