otoh

I’ve read two flash pieces in the last week with the same opening line:

Tim is dead.

If this is the universe trying to tell me something, picture me with my hands over my ears going “IIIIiiiii caaaaannnnnn’t heeeeaaarrrrrr yoooouuuuuu La la la la la la la la la …..”

On a brighter note, the inimitable Michael A. Tate chose my Chances Are for his Best #FridayFlash of the Month for November award. I rose from the dead to give an interview which is up today. Click on over and let me give you a piece of my mind [before it's all gone].

Oh, if you want to read those other ominous bits, they are here and here.

Note: You can still weigh in on the “Writing for Snob’s” poll. Also, the “We Don’t Need No Editation” and “Publishment Fits The Crime” posts provide some context to this one.

I really am working on what I think is a cogent and coherent post on self-publishing. But my brain, oh it went off on another of its silly tangents. [Granted, while I may need to let my brain ramble, I don't have to post it. And yet, sometimes I do.] So this is another pointless and useless analogy about writing. Unless you find something useful — or, perhaps, entertaining — in which case I totally meant it that way.

Does what you read take you places? I think so. I hope so. I’ve been thinking recently about what kinds of vehicles represent what I like to read and, of course, what kinds of vehicles I write. How efficient are they? How comfortable are they? How user-friendly are they? As a writer, are you designer, manufacturer, and mechanic? How about used car salesman? As a reader, where do you want to go and how do you want to get there?

A jet plane is really fast, but it’s a poor choice if you’re just trying to get around the block. It might be a good choice though for getting a bird’s-eye-view [assuming the bird is flying at about 500mph]. And there are some books I have really enjoyed zipping through at near Mach 1. I suppose non-fiction tends to be like a train — going from A to B pretty directly with room enough for the masses and little opportunity for detours or side-trips.

Poetry, I think, is at once a comfortable pair of shoes [a pleasure in the pathless woods] and a spaceship [we are stardust]. Children’s lit is a little red wagon. Most of the work is done by a teacher, parent, or older sibling pulling the nascent reader through the story. We hope, of course, that the child will in time be the one pulling another sibling or friend and ultimately their own children.

Some stories are bicycles — they can take you almost anywhere [commuter, BMX, mountain, racing, even penny-farthing], but not without a lot of effort on your part. And make sure you wear a helmet. Some stories are the family sedan [or station wagon or mini-van], comfortabe, accessible, and great for getting around your neighborhood or taking an occasional long trip.

But I wonder whether some writers know the difference between a Model T and a Formula One. Or between a car and a skateboard. Can your readers jump in/on and go? Do they need balance? Stamina? Fuel? Driver’s Ed.?

Ultimately, all writers write for an audience of one [ourelves]. Many of us hope that it resonates with a much wider audience, especially if we want to be published. Given that, we need to be mindful of what we offer to our readers and what we expect them to bring with them. And how many of us write such that our readers need to bring a dictionary with them?

Journalists are [supposed to be] aiming for a vocabulary and word-count that is comprehensible to a wide audience. I wonder how many novelists ever run a Flesch reading ease test or Gunning fog index [or anything similar] before publishing? Or if they even know what that is? Or if they would alter what they write based on the results?

What vehicles describe what you prefer to read? If you’re a writer, what vehicles do you think you write? Perhaps more importantly, would your readers agree? And how much time and effort do you spend on the nuts and bolts versus the leather and chrome?

Note: You can still weigh in on the “Writing for Snob’s” poll. And the “We Don’t Need No Editation” post provides some context to this one.

Comparing the work and influence of individuals to groups is difficult and, one might argue, unfair. But, every analogy is imperfect. Rather than get bogged down in the strength or weakness of the analogy, stick with me and consider the larger trends.

Are indie-published authors the garage bands of the writing world? Garage bands played music partly for the dream of making the big time and partly for the love of the art. From a technical standpoint, garage bands were often less proficient in their musicianship and had lower quality instruments and recording equipment [although this gap narrowed with improved technology]. Their fans may have been just as dedicated, voracious, and vociferous [or more so] than those of mainstream bands and were very forgiving of those technical deficiencies. In fact, the raw unpolished qualities were often part of the allure.

Garage bands didn’t have a contract with a big recording/publishing company. Some aspired to and eventually did get recording contracts and some remained indies. Some signed with indie labels or even started their own labels, publishing their own work and sometimes the work of others as well. Other garage bands burned out and settled into “real jobs” leaving music behind.

Do you remember lying in bed
With your covers pulled up over your head?
Radio playin’ so no one can see
We need change, we need it fast
Before rock’s just part of the past
‘Cause lately it all sounds the same to me

From “Do You Remember Rock ‘n’ Roll Radio?” by The Ramones

If indie-published authors are like garage bands, are self-published authors the punk rockers of the writing world? Punk rockers thumbed their noses at the music establishment. They reduced rock music to its rawest form — they eschewed [but probably never would have used that word] everything about traditional technique and became the voice of rebellion. Often it was a defining characteristic that they could not play musical instruments or sing. Punk rock was a backlash from the style-over-substance trends of mainstream music. Punk rock was, among other things, penance for disco.

Of course, indie- and self-published authors may be very talented and technically proficient. They may employ beta readers, editors, cover artists, and book designers. The garage and punk movements shook up the world of popular music and the recording industry. They weren’t making gold records, but they arguably were making history. Indie- and self-published writers are shaking up the book publishing industry, although probably not [yet] to the extent of what happened in music. In hindsight though, most people agree that the music industry needed some shaking up and emerged stronger because of it.

Don’t be told what you want
Don’t be told what you need
There’s no future, no future,
No future for you

From “God Save the Queen” by The Sex Pistols

What might have happened though if inexpensive digital recording, MP3 players, MySpace and YouTube had existed before garage and punk bands? What if every kid with a song in his heart and a guitar [or drum or accordion or kazoo] in hand had access to a world-wide market right alongside big-time professional bands? There sure would be a lot of noise, wouldn’t there?

Isn’t there? Now that anyone can digitally record songs relatively inexpensively and offer them [for free or for sale] on line, there sure is a lot of crap diluting [or polluting] the stream of media. How can we possibly find good music if the artist hasn’t been vetted and signed by a major record label? Except, of course, we can and do. And at the risk of sounding like a middle-aged curmudgeonly white guy from the suburbs [which of course, hi... hello... have we met?], I don’t even like most of the stuff being promoted by major record labels.

Which brings us to rap and hip-hop. I would argue that rappers are not musicians [yeah, middle-aged white guy from the suburbs, remember?], but there is no denying that they have transformed the music publishing industry and dominate sales to certain demographics. Rappers routinely and purposely use non-standard English. Who are the rappers of the book publishing world or is such a thing even possible? Is there a new beat generation coming up? Has anyone written a hip-hop epic poem? Does anyone even write epic poems any more?

It might be a trick that you don’t like
Comin’ in the side door then I’m grabbin’ the mike
Walkin’ and talkin’ – fist full in the air
It might seem like that we don’t care

From “Yo! Bumrush The Show” by Public Enemy

Are you an indie- or self-published author? Do you see yourself as a rebel? Are the “rules” of legacy publishing outdated? Next week I’ll have some ideas about the mythos of garret-secluded writer.

Note: Have you weighed in yet on the “Writing for Snob’s” poll? You still can.

Let’s assume for the purposes of this post that writing — writing fiction in particular — is an art. Let’s also assume that I’m going to be playing devil’s advocate, asking impertinent questions, and making outrageous statements….

Is writing a solo art or a collaborative art? And by collaborative, I don’t necessarily mean two or more writers working together. What about collaboration between a writer and an editor? Is it necessary for a writer to have someone else edit their work before it is published? Do we expect artists in other disciplines to use editors? What about painters? Sculptors? Musicians? Ooh, is writing a performance art?

Editor to Michelangelo re:David — Shorten the hair, give him bigger biceps, and put a fig leaf “down there” so we don’t need a parental advisory.

The genesis of this post lies in three recurring themes I’ve been seeing a lot recently. 1. Surveys about the quality of what we read and how much we are bothered by errors in spelling and grammar. 2. Advice to aspiring authors on the necessity of editing [and other services such as cover art and page layout] especially when self-publishing. 3. Rants about the lack of proper spelling and grammar skills among the general public.

Every one of the surveys I’ve seen about the quality of writing has been posted by a writer, agent, editor, or publisher on sites where the responses come from other writers, agents, editors, or publishers. Not surprisingly, the vast majority of us think accurate spelling and grammar are very important. [Note: I did not actively seek out these surveys; they are on sites I was reading anyway because of my interest in writing. There may very well be similar surveys posted somewhere with replies from a broader cross section of the reading public.] Sometimes these surveys are coupled with a post wondering why some books — self- or indie-published books — that are filled with spelling and grammatical errors sell very well.

Let’s consider that in the light of #3 up there. If most people don’t know or don’t care about spelling and grammar in what they write [one person in a Google + discussion suggested, "Have you been on Facebook?" for evidence of poor language skills] then I have to conclude that they either don’t know enough or don’t care enough to be bothered by poor spelling or grammar in what they read. That would certainly take some of the mystery out of why those books sell well. Presumably those books have very compelling stories or some other quality that attracts the readers.

And if it is true that there are a large number of readers who don’t know or don’t care about proper spelling and grammar, then doesn’t that mean it’s okay to publish work without the services of an editor? If we want to sell books and there is a market for books that include poor spelling and grammar, why bother? By eliminating the editor, you decrease the time and cost of getting your book to market.

Editor to DaVinci re: Portrait of Lisa Gherardini, wife of Francesco del Giocondo — The smile is ambiguous and the title is way too long. How about just “Lisa” for the title?

So let’s get back to the question of whether we expect artists in other disciplines to use editors. I think not. When I see a painting, for example, I believe I am seeing the expression of that artist at a particular point in time. I don’t expect someone to have been looking over their shoulder while they paint saying, “What the hell are you doing?” or “You missed a spot.”

We may see an artist’s technique evolve [improve?] over time if we compare several of their works. Some artists get so popular/famous [usually long after they are dead] that even preliminary sketches, studies, and unfinished works become valuable. Beginning painters require training and practice [and might indeed have someone looking over their shoulder], but they still might offer their work for sale while they are learning.

At some point though, we expect them to become “professional” or a “master painter” and produce high quality works without supervision. They might even become a “visionary” and veer far from the mainstream, producing work that critics, the public, even other artists do not understand or appreciate [until long after they are dead]. Still, we usually end up respecting them for following their vision and making those “mistakes” despite the lack of support. Perhaps especially if that meant their work did not sell well [until long after they are dead].

Writers though — even the biggest-selling, most talented, most experienced writers — we expect to consult with an editor before releasing their work to the public. Is writing more complex or more difficult than painting? Is there some fundamental difference between the art of writing and other forms of artistic expression?

Editor to Vermeer re:Girl with a Pearl Earring — Good start. I’d love to see this when it’s finished.

Let’s not forget that, while telling stories is a very old human activity, publishing books is a relatively new activity. And let’s not forget that publishing is a business and, despite all the claims of “gatekeeping” and maintaining high standards, like all businesses it is mostly concerned with making a profit. So, is requiring editing just another way for publishers to justify keeping a percentage of the profits [if a book even makes a profit]? Would an art gallery tell a painter, “We’d like to display your landscape, but first put more blue in the sky and a different shade of green in this foliage.”? Is every written work essentially a work for hire?

How do you think the art of writing compares to other forms of artistic expression? How much of writing should be aimed at creating great art and how much for simply entertaining the masses [and selling lots of books]? Are you a writer and if so do you consider yourself to be an artist? Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments. Next week I’ll compare book publishing to music publishing.

I have lost a friend. But it doesn’t feel real. Saying it out loud [or writing it here] does not make it feel real. And yet it is.

I have lost a friend. But the literal part of my brain [which is often -- and particularly, for better or worse, in personal relationships-- the dominant part] complains about semantics. It’s not like I set him down somewhere and forgot to pick him up. He left this world suddenly and unexpectedly.

I have lost a friend. But I understand. As much as our friends and family are a part of us, their passing leaves an empty space in us. That is our loss.

I have lost a friend. By coincidence it happened almost exactly a year after the loss of another friend. But it occurs to me that at my age, pretty much everything happens within a few days of the anniversary of some significant event.

I have lost a friend. And as much as I love all my online friends [and I really do] blogging and emailing and tweeting and such seemed far less important than my 3D world the last couple weeks.

I have lost a friend. And I hate when that happens.