Can I make a fortune as a writer? A rant.

I regularly get messages in my inbox from people offering to sell me the secrets of success.  Today one of them offered access to a free training session on how to become a published author in ninety days.

I see this kind of thing and I think: how strange it is that in a cultural environment resting on the foundations of Gutenberg and grammarians, we should see a situation prevail which reminds me of antiquity: in order to publish a book, why, all you have to do is hack out your ideas and release them to the world!  - Except now we don't have an environment of scarcity: modern societies aspire to universal literacy and publishing doesn't require a staff of slave scribes or even a contract with a printing press.

Let me tell you why I'm skeptical.  As someone who has been writing for 20 years, I know how much work it takes to write well.  I estimate that I'm about three-quarters of the way to the million words that it takes to gain mastery of the craft - and I have deliberately underestimated.  People tell me I write well.  Sometimes I let myself believe it.  Sometimes I say so myself on a cover letter, because I have to admit that compared with many other people, I do.

But that's because I have worked at it so much.  And I know that good writing entails rewriting.  This is especially true for creative writing, but anything that seeks to be of real use is going to have to go through a critical eye and get rearranged.  I've written my share of relatively dry and utilitarian stuff but even for that I didn't publish first drafts.

Thousands of people write 50,000 words in 30 days every November.  But that doesn't mean their drafts are ready to be published.  Reputable advice about NaNoWriMo will reassure you that when you're "finished," your book will suck.  And that's ok, because now you can take the time to edit, revise and rewrite, to get it ready to publish.  Some NaNo-ers like to try to get this done within the year following the completion of their first draft.  To do that in two months?

When I was a faculty member at a certain university, I took part in a semester-long writing workshop.  Right off the bat I was disappointed by the message that the presenter gave: don't worry about trying to say something original, she said, just join the conversation.  I thought: well, isn't that what the Internet is for - for people to just sound off and repeat the same conversations over and over until at some point hopefully they get off and graduate?

I've since come around to her way of thinking to a point: "ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering" and all that.  But here's the thing: even operating on such a premise, the article that I wrote - and published - through that program went through peer reviews.  It got rejected twice before I got it into shape fit for publishing.

I look at these people who say they've gotten rich publishing ebooks that they wrote in no time and I think, what on earth can they be writing?  If it's fiction or poetry or even personal essay I would rest easier: creative writing thrives on the endless permutation of themes, characters and questions.  For current events there's journalism.

But from what I see, I strongly suspect that what many of these people are writing is "content" that you could have from other books already published, if you simply took some time and care at the library.  That would mean that the fortunes of these few depend on the hurried laziness of the many who would rather pay a few bucks for convenience than do any serious investigation.

Blogging is to blame for this in great degree, I'm sure.  I might also be inclined to point a finger at NaNoWriMo, but I think it's more than bias born of affection that gives me pause there.  For although I have read the success stories about the people whose NaNo novels get published - and read - the emphasis I see in NaNoWriMo's promotions is far more weighted on the personal fulfillment of accomplishing the writing for yourself, and honoring your creativity.  I don't see the same mentality of "look how easy it is to make loads of money!"  Because - well, imagine this! - people who have a story to tell aren't always in it for the money.  And maybe the people who care about quality of prose and rigor of thought aren't out to get rich either.

Much of the blame for this I would also lay at the feet of the Prussian-derived public school systems, but I think that might be another story.  And I'm sure someone could lead an informative discussion about the nature of newspaper journalism in relation to all this.

I don't know if I should be disturbed at this or not: I'm charitable enough, I suppose, that I look at these cheerleaders for the drop-out-and-travel-the-world-by-publishing-ebooks (or an affiliate marketing blog) lifestyle and I think: is there a possibility this might not be just another variant of the Get Rich Quick Scheme?  To their credit, I do read from affiliate marketers who say that it took months to see results from their efforts.  There are even some like this guy who project a gruff persona to try to drive away the lazy people who just want to plug into the system and get paid without making an effort.

Again and again I find myself reflecting on the curious case of Nehor, as recorded in the Book of Alma: a guru of positive thinking and a gospel of prosperity, he got so angry when an old man argued against his ideas that he killed him.  And his followers perpetrated some of the most ruthless atrocities of their time.

So I see these smiling guys who can't seem to put together a sentence without using the word "awesome" or "amazing" and I think, what would they be like when cornered?  What claws and fangs would come out if they found that someone was putting their ebooks to their natural use and copying them for free?

There's more that I can and want to write about this, but it might take several more posts and/or a dissertation.

Nearly nine years

This blog has been around for nearly nine years under its current name.  Before March 2007 if I recall aright, it was mostly a political blog, emanating fervent heat from the idealism that my experiences of recent years have managed to temper and disappoint, but not to purge.

I'm glad I made the change to the name and focus almost nine years ago.  I might put up some of the earlier stuff I posted again, on a separate page, as part of the remodeling I'm doing in this new year.

In looking through some old posts I found this one written when I was still living two days' journey away from the Wasatch Front.  It helps me to reflect on how grateful I am to be living back in my homeland again, even though there are many people and things I miss about New Mexico.

As this year progresses, I'll continue to change and grow this blog.  A while ago I noticed that somehow the old blogroll I used to have on the sideline is no longer there, and I want to work to build that back up.  Also, long-time readers will notice that I've started adding affiliate links.  This is an experiment and I'm interested to see what happens with it.

Read old books! - The Song of Roland

It's no secret to any regular reader of this blog that I like old books, along with old music.  Nearly five years ago (about the time I started to listen seriously to Bach church cantatas) I posted about reading the Italian Renaissance classic Orlando Furioso (the Waldman prose translation).  In the years since I've also worked my way through two and a half books of The Faerie Queene.  (Those are affiliate links, by the way, and there's another to come.)

One of these years I really have been meaning to write a paper to present at Life, the Universe and Everything about how these poems (especially OF and its predecessor) are essentially works of Renaissance fanfic based on the Song of Roland.  My problem is that my perfectionism holds me back: "nothing I say will be original," I tell myself, forgetting that 75% of what is said in any panel discussion isn't original either (drawing not only on my LTUE experience but also on the professional archivists' conferences I used to attend).

Well, I'm getting closer to that, because Suzannah over at Vintage Novels has put out a challenge for a read-along of the Song of Roland.  It amazes me that I have come this far without reading it (along with the The Poem of the Cid, which I have in paperback, for heaven's sake), but better late than never!  And having failed so miserably at NaNoWriMo this year, I figure maybe this is a way for me to redeem myself.

Currently I'm going between the Frederick Goldin translation in my Norton Anthology and the C.K. Moncrieff at Project Gutenberg.  Since I prefer prose translations I'm spending most of my time with the Goldin.  Right off the bat I noticed the familiar medieval caricature of Islam: pagans who worship not only "Mahumet" but the Greek god Apollo too.  Not sure how that was supposed to work, but it's serving to me as a reminder of the unreliable narrator principle, along with the truth that artistic merit (and documentary value) is separate from factuality or social virtue.

To live between a rock and a hard place in between time

-I really had meant to do more posts on my typewriter, I really had.

I have meant to do many things, and making excuses has never been one of them.  But dealing with all the demands on my time ("too many hands on my time," as the Canadian poet also wrote), seeing how I fail at meeting them all, and seeing the hard choices I have to make, maybe I can continue to be patient and forgiving with others when they fail to gratify some of my wishes for time spent with them.

I haven't finished any of my planned Christmas calligraphy projects this year, but I'm going to post some calligraphy of Christmases past.  Looking back over my work, I can see that I have improved my technique, even though I still have much room for more improvement.

First, a section of the Wexford Carol, one of my favorites, that I did - oh, probably three years ago.

And this one, from about the same time, showing the same shaky penmanship and indecisive long "s" (though I'm not sure how much better my current forms are):

Finally, a translation of the Magnificat, which I did as a gift for someone, also in 2012.  This was a bit of work: I translated it into one of the languages in the novel I'm writing, which required some last-minute invention of words and grammar, and then I had to write the thing out carefully and neatly.  At least in this script you have no other specimen to judge it against.  Here it is, enjoy!

I'm starting to wear more jewelry. What does that mean?

I guess I've always liked jewelry.  I still have a Navajo silver-turquoise ring from Arizona that I got when I was maybe 10.  It doesn't fit anymore, so I bequeathed it to my daughter.  And I've had a few rings and bracelets that I've worn over the years, but never for very long.  The longest I've worn any item of jewelry has been my wedding ring: a nice plain gold band that a brother-in-law described as a "Ben-Hur ring" when he saw it.

This summer I started buying hematite rings at Dancing Cranes Imports in Salt Lake City and wearing them until they break - usually a month or two.  They cost about a buck, and they're fun.  I also bought a green stone pendant there that is apparently made of rainforest jasper.  I like to wear it.  My baby daughter likes to play with it when I do.  So I don't wear it as much as I might.

And I've always liked the idea of bracelets too: I mean, Ben-Hur, right?  So recently I ordered a brass bracelet from Gifts with Humanity and am looking forward to wearing it.  I used to wear a wristwatch and sometimes I miss having metal around my wrist.

It's not the sensation I miss, it's the adornment.  I'm starting this personal socio-psychological experiment, to claim more of a stake in the masculine tradition of adornment.  This tradition isn't nearly as strong in my culture as it is in some others, but I'm a citizen of the world.  I'm also interested in depth psychology.  I've never been a typical guy, but I've learned enough that I don't have to conform to a narrow cultural and historical definition of masculinity to be a man, and to feel like a man.

So this is my little way of expanding my personal sense of masculinity: searching for pendants and bracelets on ebay, finding adornments to put on my person.  That and (far more typical) collecting sticks and stones - but that's another story.

My grandmother's unfinished work (including a scanned typewritten page)

Lately I've been going through some old family papers.  There was a time, not so long ago, where I worked full-time as a professional archivist.  Since then I've kept my hand in with some side projects, and this is the latest one.  As with any project involving personal or family papers, there are easier parts (like sorting letters) and then there are the perplexities - in this case, my grandmother's writing.

My paternal grandmother was born in Salina, Utah (how many of you reading this have heard of it?) and had an expansive and curious mind.  She wrote poetry, drew and painted, as her time allowed while raising children and keeping house, and when her children were grown she went back to school, where she planned on writing a Master's thesis on the history of her hometown.  She never finished it, but she left a quantity of handwritten notes and drafts, including many typewritten pages with corrections and revisions.  Working with all this has reminded me forcefully of a collection I worked with in my former archives job: the manuscripts and research notes of another woman who had attempted to write a history of her hometown and left it unfinished at her death.

I wrote about it on another blog I maintained at the time, commenting on the tendencies I saw in her methods and the affinities I saw with my own.  My grandmother left behind much fewer notes and drafts - at least, much less material has come to me - but working with them is of course much more interesting to me.  I recognize in myself a wish that she showed to address a wide range of questions within the scope of what might seem a discreetly-defined subject.  Her research into her hometown's history seems to have swung wide to accommodate various reflections on sociology, economy and theology - not surprising, really, when you consider Salina's history as a Mormon Pioneer town.

I think that the work my grandmother left undone was motivated by either the same spirit or a similar one to what has been working in me for several years.  In my case, I'm attempting to express my ideas in fiction, and while I don't know how early on my grandmother began her work, I think of my age and my life responsibilities, and I don't want to let the rest of my life go by without finishing.  Maybe this can be one more motivator for me: to finish this for her sake as well as everything else.

More about music: alternative skating rink mix

This evening we took our seven-year-old to a roller rink for a school party.  I could write a book about this.  I went to skating parties when I was in elementary school - in fact I saw one boy who looked just like me at 10.  Not just in the color of his hair and the shape of his face, it was also the way he wobbled unsteadily on the skates as he tried to keep his balance and figure out how to push himself along.  I wanted to go give him a big hug and tell him "it's all right, everything will be all right."

Maybe it was the nostalgia, but I found myself enjoying this evening's outing immensely, even the dance-beat pop music that played loudly over the speakers.  But I still thought of other music that might be interesting to roller skate to - or to watch people roller skate to.  What would some of the teens and preteens who were so amazingly agile (so glad to see that youth are still skating!) make of something like "ZNS" that I posted a few days ago?  Or . . . well, let's come up with a few more possibilities.

I would pay money to watch choreographed roller skate performances to these.