ince I will one day earn my living by writing, and I wouldn't mind being famous for doing it, I take an understandably keen interest in news items about how much writers get paid, how royalties work, which author has just signed a huge new book deal, etc. And when I see an article on those topics that's worth blogging about, I do, and eventually it ends up here.

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October 4, 2004

Malaya often brings up this issue, and I'd like to discuss it in detail at some point. I'm not going to do that today though, so I'll just throw it out there for your consideration, and to keep it current in my mind. The topic is; what do hack writers/artists/whoever think about their work? Are they happy being successfully mediocre?  Does it burn them that they aren't really very good at ________, while still being good enough to make a successful living at it?  Malaya usually asks it directly of me, in a hypothetical question that sounds something like this:

"What if you had __________'s (insert rich-but-untalented artist's name here, e.g. John Saul, Britney Spears, Casper Van Diem, George Lucas, etc) talent and career? Writing/performing derivative, mediocre genre schlock that no one but your most devoted fans thinks is any good, but still making millions doing it? Would you be happy? Or would you rather be less popular but more talented, creating work that earned your living, but that you were proud of and knew in your heart was far better than what those millionaire hacks were churning out?"

It's easy to glibly answer by saying, "I'm sure my millions could buy me some happiness." but if you really think it over, is that true? Very rich people often score as low or lower than very poor people on personality surveys. Being a rich and successful hack certainly beats being an unknown and poor one, but how would you feel about yourself if you really wanted to be the best at what you were doing? How would you live knowing no matter how hard you tried, you'd never really be any good?

Take Anne Rice for one example. Churning out her umpteenth cheesy vampire/witch novel, too insecure to let an editor improve her material, myopic about the quality of her own work, unable to take any sort of criticism without unleashing a defensive rant, etc. Are those traits signs of denial and desperation and unhappiness? Or does she really believe she's a great artist, as or more talented than any other writer, and that everyone who thinks otherwise is jealous, or bitter, or just criticizing her to be a dick, and is she perfectly happy with what she's done with her career?

Anyway, it's something we think about here in Casa Malalux from time to time, and you're free to turn it over in your own mind, or share your thoughts thisaway for inspiration and possible quotation when I do eventually blog about it at greater length.

September 26, 2003

Steven King has been selected to receive the prestigious National Book Award, for lifetime achievement.  Goodie for him.  I haven't really liked anything he's written for about the past decade, but I loved his early stuff, and I can recognize that he's improved as a writer over the years.  It's just his plots that have gone downhill, IMHO.  In any event, King has certainly produced an impressive body of work, both in and out of the horror genre, and while he's not that great a "writer" he's certainly ten times the story-teller or "novelist" that most published authors are.

The article includes a quote from some Yale professor who seems to be auditioning for the title of "Most Unintentionally-Amusing Pretentious Literary Snob on Earth," and while your reaction will probably be something along the lines of, "What kind of stupid fuck is that guy?" which was pretty much what I thought when I read it, I still found it pretty funny.

The selection of King did not meet with universal approval in literary and academic circles.

"He is a man who writes what used to be called penny dreadfuls," Yale University Professor Harold Bloom told the New York Times.

"That they could believe that there is any literary value there or any aesthetic accomplishment or signs of an inventive human intelligence is simply a testimony to their own idiocy."

Now you can debate "literary value" endlessly, and "aesthetic accomplishment" as well, but you'd have to be a complete idiot, or else have an axe the size of a dinner table to grind, to even hint that King's work doesn't show endless "inventive human intelligence."  Back to your ivory tower to continue your chess match with George will, culture, Professor Clueless.  We'll give you guys a call when next the NYT needs a sniffy quote condemning some wildly-popular aspect of modern culture.

Before you start thinking the award is that prestigious, consider that they gave Oprah one in 1999, apparently because she hosted a TV show with an audience large enough to guarantee that any book she featured would become a best seller.  What sort of criteria is that? Does the FOX News legal department get one for all their hard work promoting Al Franken's latest opus?

September 9, 2003

Interesting article about the porno-ization of America.  The author calls it the "Hustlerization," but same damn thing, really. As the article says, porn has been accepted when no one really cares about gubernatorial candidate Arnie's past history of gang bangs and drug use, or his FFN weiner photos, and the other two CA gov candidates who get the most attention (besides Gary Coleman) are porn star Mary Carey, and porn producer Larry Flint.

While not the thrust of the article, I thought the section where the female writer addresses her feminist critics over the topic of her occasionally writing for Penthouse, back before it went bankrupt.

And to proper feminists who ask how I can work for a magazine that exploits women, my answer is always, go write for a women's magazine before you talk to me about exploited women.

Lured by the prospect of what, ludicrously, always seems like easy money, I have occasionally over the years done just that.

But after weeks of snippy, sorority slambook-style fee negotiations - "And FYI, the editor said, 'Why does she think SHE should get that much?'" - and torturously rewriting and REWRITING until the correct women's mag tone (perky, smarmy, know-it-all, generic) is achieved, that fatally tempting $2 a word shrinks to about 2 cents an hour.

At Penthouse, on the other hand, the drill always went like this: Accept advance, turn in article, hear back from editor within hours about how much he liked it, see not one word changed, collect $6,000.

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