A plague of agents

It’s time. Yes, it is. I know you’ve been waiting for it. So have I. I’ve kept my vitriol in check for the most part; better for body and soul. But I feel I need to get this out, if only for catharsis.

You probably can read this selfsame rant on a number of writers’ websites and the like, so I don’t claim to have a monopoly on the sentiment. But I think it bears repeating: “literary” agents annoy me. Instead of one gatekeeper (big publishing house), you have two. Back when Hemingway was scribbling, there were no agents. At least, I don’t think there were; but if I’m wrong email me. Sure, Hemingway had to get in good with the right crowd–but he didn’t have to sell his soul to what amounts to a headhunter for desperate novelists. But, you see, this headhunter is worse than your garden variety genus of headhunter. I don’t recommend this–but troll around one of their blogs, and you’ll get the full picture. If you have a weak stomach, skip it. I’m an inveterate rubbernecker, so it doesn’t bother me.

What of these cynical blogs dedicated to ripping apart the dreams of writers? Good and proper question. I was stunned they existed. But then, I’m never stunned by the lengths people go to humiliate other people. That’s what the aforementioned blog is all about: humiliation. Getting kicks from your power over a defenseless target. Kind of sick, isn’t it? Actually, it’s de rigueur for folks in this “industry.” The bit I fancy the most is the dissection of query letters. Now…are there rules for query letters? Apparently so. But there are many rules, depending on the agent. So, if I get this right, each agent has his/her own specific rules on how he/she wants a query to look and sound, etc. Again, troll the Net a bit and check out the myriad permutations. It’s mind-boggling diverse. But they like it that way. You make your bones by being a ball buster. I mean, that’s true of any “business.”

Now…the aforementioned blog (and others) take a sadistic delight in pointing out query letter errata. Again, the picking apart process is done painstakingly slow and deliberate, with egregious excerpts paraded about for an audience of aspiring scribblers. It’s, you know, a means for the agent to horsewhip potential clientele. And they enjoy it. You see, once you get ’em sedated and eating our of your hands, you can pretty much mold and manipulate your “art” as you see fit. Again, they really, really enjoy it. Of course, an aspiring scribbler has no other choice but to obey; the ground rules are quite specific. You either play or remain in obscurity. It’s a lose lose thing. And…they really enjoy it.

The retort will be: you’re bitter because they didn’t accept your novel. Okay, maybe that’s true to an extent. But sadism for sadism sake, to me, is sort of fucked up. My guess is that a large number of agents are failed writers themselves, and now want to exact revenge on people just like themselves. Even more sadistic, right? Self-hatred, perhaps? You decide. End of rant.

Rant Du jure

Without a publisher or a bunch of gatekeeping money grubbers (agents), the Muse, as it were, is able to visit the writer qua writer much more frequently and with greater emotional resonance.

Don’t lie. Every time you “craft” a sentence, there’s always that little pathetic voice telling you to write in a certain way to please some sequestered, arrogant New York agent (who, by law, can do whatever he/she wants with your book, not to mention your future royalties) or big time, high-profile publishing firm that answers to larger corporate conglomerates who own companies unrelated to books or literature. Get it? You are just a miserable pawn, not an artist. Admit it to yourself. I did.

You know, even if I don’t sell a clutch of eBooks or make a name for myself (which should never be the goal of writing anyway), I am free now to write as I wish, to publish anything I damn well please. Who cares if I suck! I can suck on my own terms, and revel in my suckitude.

I never intended this post to be a full-bore rant, but I know I’m speaking for many people out there. Without the pressure to conform to antiquated publishing protocols, I (and we) can now indulge myself/ourselves. This is not to say I wish to publish utter rubbish. But my mind is free of the tethers of other people’s monetary expectations. Do you realize how liberating this is? I have so many books I want to write now. And there’s nothing to stop me. Nothing. That should inspire you all to write your fucking heart out. Get going. And don’t fucking stop.

Borders collapse

The biggest “thing” to happen in 2011 re writing/publishing/books/what have you was the collapse of Borders. Full disclosure: I was a Borders employee back in the late nineties, so I have some familiarity with this erstwhile colossus. Like lots of folks, I was never very sanguine about these mega-chains crowding out the mom and pop stores. Looks like Borders fell under its own weight–and hubris. A David didn’t have to slay the foundering beast.

Yet, during their long liquidation, I walked into my local Borders and found myself wistful about their downfall. It signals a changing of the guard, in some sense. It remains to be seen whether bricks-and-mortar book stores can survive in an increasingly digital environment. I have my doubts. Of course, this malady is afflicting newspapers/magazines/etc. Content (or what used to be called articles/pieces/literature/etc.) is now becoming digitized at breakneck speed. I’m a lover of hardcopy books, don’t let me lie, but I’m not a thoroughgoing Luddite. It’s a bit ridiculous to fortify the levee when raging waters threaten total evisceration.

Actually, the Borders collapse is symbolic of a zeitgeist change. It has given us space to breathe again. Space to imagine and create. It’s open a whole wide world of indie publishing that didn’t exist a few years back. It’s given me a chance to vault over those New York gatekeepers–and what a rush! The establishment (whatever establishment you care to isolate) is mortified by bloggers, on-line scribblers, indie writers, etc. because they have no way of controlling the content (there’s that word again). It must really suck for them. The major problem with the world is that we have so many gatekeepers and poobahs who want to restrict our information, or our access to information. Information itself is radical. If no one can control it, think of the possibilities. Here’s hoping that 2012 will liberate more and more “content.” Happy New Year!

Sex and Drugs in Fiction

The topic of profanity in fiction has been making the rounds in the indie publishing blogosphere lately, and I’d like to address two other controversial topics: sex and drugs. (Or should I say: seemingly controversial topics.)

Ha, yeah! Well, sure. Why the hell not?

Full disclosure: my first novel, the Search for the Good Doctor, is basically obsessed with drugs and drug-taking. Almost all of the characters are smoking or injecting something. I realize our culture has become rabidly anti-drug, and I understand the reasoning. No one wants to become a meth addict or a prescription drug fiend. No one. Point is, the publishing world, at least modern publishing, really finds controversial topics like drugs (and to a lesser extent, sex) as verboten, or at least to be avoided at all costs. They don’t like it. Anything (and I mean anything!) that will upset their corporate overlords will upset the bottom line, and nobody wants to upset the bottom line. Because that’s all that really matters in the publishing world. They don’t care about your book or its content; it’s a product to be sold like soap or air freshener. But let’s ignore these folks for a bit.

Drugs are a part of our society, and like it or not, they reflect our culture. We can try to wish this away, but it will not disappear. In my little dystopian sci-fi world, I’ve decided (as is my wont) to create characters who are motivated largely by drugs. I don’t find this controversial at all. I am simply highlighting a major aspect of our culture, because it’s hard to ignore. I am prepared for folks to hate my novel for this decision. I see it as reality. I am a writer; reality is my stock and trade, so to speak.

Okay, sex. Another topic folks are routinely squeamish about. I’ve read many of these books that teach you “how to write,” and inevitably they warn you (the novice writer, mostly) to write sex scenes only if you are good at them and/or if they won’t offend your closest relatives. That’s absurd. Again, like drugs, sex is a huge part of our lives and why should we shy away from a sex scene here or there? I don’t know whether I’m good at writing them or not; I simply write them because that’s how I feel at the moment.

We’re all adults here, right? Nuff said. Oh–and happy holidays to one and all!

A little on creativity

The one disconcerting aspect of the consolidation of media (and which I mean, specifically book publishing) is the slow, inexorable slide toward homogenization. Everything is vanilla and bland now because these large corporations (all of publishing, really) have packaged “art” into neat little boxes for convenient consumption. Hence, what we are seeing now is the winnowing of creativity, a move toward a totally market-based model.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, well, it’s always been that way. Sure it has–to a degree. Yet, the Borders collapse for me sends out alarm bells. I’m sure everyone has their own particular take on it. You hear, mostly, that the proximate cause was the burgeoning eBook phenomenon. I agree with that, to a degree. There was a stubborness about Borders refusing to change with the times. Yet, there was something else going on.

I think we are going to see a colossal paradigm shift. The creation of on-the-fly content, sans the corporate gatekeepers, will open up an avalanche of creativity. Of course, there will be a lot of badly written books published. Yet, writers will be free to explore narrarive avenues and flights of fancy once verboten and forbidden because the “vaunted market” (as I like to call it) disallowed quirky, countercultural subject matter. And there will be readers! Lots of readers. Trust me on that.

People are yearning for new stuff. They are sick of vanilla. I know I am!

So, I guess what I am saying is that the publishing giants can’t harness creativity forever. Human beings find ways to express themselves outside the accepted parameters of polite society. And I’m glad of it. That impetuous harnessing of creativity has doomed them in some ways; technology has just sped up the process.