UPDATE: I cleaned this up a little (I hope) so it isn't so jumpy/disconnected after the mid-point. Also, some of this is follow-up reaction to a statement by Keene in the comments that he later deleted (see following entry), so it may seem baseless or overwrought given what is stated at the link now.
No, this isn't one of those awesomely dreadful grade school films we all watched in the 80's, though it totally could be. I was going to title it "Why Writers Are Not Statisticians" but that wasn't as fun. This is about a recent bit of method criticism that popped up on a blog I don't know when or why I started reading -- Robert may have had something to do with it -- but which set off my logic and tweaked my arrogance alarms.
Over on his writing blog, Brian Keene suggests full-time writers who can't put out as much work as he can -- something like 3500 words a day -- are lazy whiners and cry-babies who are just not making the most of their time. Because, mathematically, if you can write 500 words an hour, then you can write 3500 words in a full work day of seven hours (with an hour for lunch).
You heard correctly: there is absolutely no good reason if you're writing full-time that you can't write three or four 90k-word books a year (only taking a break for personal emergencies or vacations and such). Therefore, any writer complaining about the stress of trying to put out just one 90k-word novel in a year is a lazy whiner who probably spends their work-day playing the latest Flash-game craze from Slashdot.
Keene's math isn't wrong, but his conclusion is.
( ...of monkeys and man hours... )
Friends with eyes on self-publishing fiction, let me explain how NOT to do it.
I know, I'm not a published fiction writer...at least I don't think I am. 'Raven,' you might say, 'how can you not know if you are? Isn't that something someone would remember?' And I might say in response, 'Yes. Very true. But I have four children.' And you would say 'Ah, I see.' So I might have actually published something somewhere when I was younger before my children had destroyed the last of my ability to memorize information, but I don't remember. It's possible, but as far as I know I am not a published fiction writer in any traditional sense.
So why listen to me?
Because I am a published writer in the traditional sense.
This means other people have taken crap I've written and said, "Hey, can I repeat that over here, possibly for money (but mainly for name-credit)?" And I've said "Yes. Sure. Hell yes! Thanks!" And been pleasantly aghast that my verbal meanderings were worth someone else's time and printing costs. Occasionally, I have also been surprised that people have asked "More?" and very occasionally, "More, please?" And sometimes even thrown not entirely insignificant sums of money at me for doing so (though this happens far too rarely).
I've also edited my fair share of things. Usually for people seeking higher grades, a few times for friends seeking publication, and sometimes for things about which large, international companies have said, "This is OK. It must now become Good because many thousands of people will see it. Will you make it Good?" Sometimes followed by "And here is money." To which I reply, "Holy Jesus! Money!"
For nearly a decade, I have also been involved with the highly successful modern independent publishing movement in tabletop gaming, which has taught me more than a few things that are pertinent to self-publishing in fiction.
So I know what I'm talking about when I say: friends with eyes on self-publishing fiction, let me explain how NOT to do it:
Don't do it like The Saga of Sissarak series.[1]
[1] Note that names have been changed to protect the innocent. And me. From lawyers. (But mostly from e-mails sent by angry amateur vanity-press writers who didn't ask for my advice in the first place and are now very embarrassed that I have pointed out their errors in public.)
While writing the other piece from tonight, I stumbled across RPGPundit's blog. Now, I've never been there before, and I proceeded to read entries. I was entranced, in a disturbing sort of way. Sometimes, I thought it almost sounded sane, and then we'd plunge right back into some vicious, off-the-deep-end territory, like a roller-coaster gone mad.
The whole thing oozed of hatred and...not even criticism, but childish bullying. It was full of name-calling, character assassination, and open demeaning contempt alongside a healthy dose of smug superiority.
( ...trying to describe it... )
I finally closed out the site with a bit of a sick-tremor, and thought about everything I had just read, page-after-page-after-page of the same vicious name-calling and sneering contempt. And then I thought: now, there's a guy who is addicted to self-righteous anger.
I realized that topic was just discussed this morning, so I did some research on the topic, and my own reactions to the site, and dug up some interesting links.
It was easy to see why I was entranced at first, why I kept reading page-after-page. It's easy to see why people get sucked into reading and even posting at such sites, why they behave this way, as either defenders of the verbally assaulted or as unapologetic attackers, and why the owners of sites like this seem to get such a kick out of slinging insults and cruel caricatures.
( ...links and references... )So, hate-rhetoric builds up a self-view as a righteous hero, which covers up the reality of the socially broken and irrational behaviors engaged in while angry, made self-sustaining through the judgmental feelings engendered by anger -- the inability to do wrong, the feeling of superiority and correctness -- which blind you to the negatives and faults of those very behaviors and make you look for the high it provides.
And that sort of behavior is even emotionally addictive just to watch (and just as emotionally damaging); all despite the best of intentions in your participation or choice of that behavior, as aggravator or respondent.
( ...anger and I... )
I'm staying far away from this stuff, because like any hate-rhetoric site, it is dangerous holistically -- to mind, body and spirit -- and impossible to reason with. I'm hoping that in a few weeks I can put the whole experience behind me.
There comes a time when you have to realize arguing with the raving homeless man at the corner carrying the sign is doing neither you nor the raving homeless man any good. You must also remember that sometimes the crazy homeless man wears a suit and tie, and he often posts on the internet, but he is still very easy to spot because of his sign. Regardless, this does not change the advice.
Yours,
Rev. Raven
contemplative