by Carrie Bailey
If you suck as a person, you will suck as a writer and everyone who reads your work will be granted great insight into exactly how you draw into your mouth by contracting the muscles of the lip and mouth to make a partial vacuum.
I’m not saying great writers are great people. Some are the emotional equivalent of a tar pit or a new strain of bird flu. They are very much themselves when they write and happen to be jerks.
What I am saying is that if you have an obvious fault in your personality, it will come out in your writing. I say this thinking about an aspiring YA writer I read with teenage characters having dark jaded and sophisticated sexual relationships that screamed PEDOPHILE to me. I know teenagers can be complex emotional creatures, but this writer was clearly drawing from his own sophisticated sexual
How Not to Write a Novel is a book with a lot of examples where writers just get creepy. I recommend reading it.
Creepiness is only one obvious fault that a person can have. Some authors are shallow, overly idealistic, racist, timid, boring... and that's why they suck. Sure, they can still get published. People do, but a writer has to balance out their negative repulsive qualities with enough good ones to tip the scale in favor of attraction.
Bookishness does not make you a superior form of life anymore than wearing glasses makes you more intelligent.
A lot of farmers don’t have time to read, although many listen to a great number of audio books. A lot of poor single mothers don’t have time to read. Many worthwhile people have lives that don’t involve reading books. Time to read is a privilege. It irks me when writers pat themselves on the back for having a noble hobby as if we've all forgotten that there was an era when reading was considered an immoral distraction from responsibility. Humanity can survive without books, but we can’t live without food. Respect the hardworking people who don't read, they may just be catching your book when it gets released on film.
Shocking! It is possible for someone to follow an "author" on social media and not be their adoring fan.
I bubble over with revulsion whenever an author I friend on Facebook, adds me, and then posts a “Thank-you for friending me” message on my wall. Why don't they thank me privately? Because, they want my friends to see that I made the choice to friend them. Bastards! My Facebook wall is not for you! People I know personally are more considerate about posting on my wall than these authors I've just met.
Real fans are not numbers on social media. Authors friend each other as colleagues not as fans. We inflate each others numbers to make each other look more popular. Sometimes we do read each others work. We share technique, stories and industry information, but we are rarely fans.
Fans are people who are in awe of a writer's work. It can be very uncomfortable to get your first real fans, because you may never have experienced that sort of un-tempered and unreciprocated adoration. While some people may be impressed that you wrote a book, they don’t necessarily plan to read what you wrote. Authors who treat every social media contact as a fan need to recognize the difference!
Being a successful writer is a group effort and anyone who thinks otherwise needs to be led into the forest and left there for 20 days with only saltine crackers.
People, who I know offline, come to me all the time and say that they would like to be a successful author. Can I make that happen? No. I cannot. I have only single digit book sales each week myself and that great trickle of dimes has taken me three years to unleash. People who believe that anyone wields the power to make them successful overnight are naïve. It is kind of cheek-pinching cute though.
However, there are arrogant pricks among writers who knowingly perpetuate this mythology of the author. One day, we click the last button and place the final period on the last paragraph of our great masterpiece. There it sits. Moments later, fans are pounding on our door. Why? Because, authors either have it or they don't; that elusive something that drives sales. It's magic!
Do you agree? Better not. I will come. I will find you and we are going out for a little walk in the woods. We'll have a nice chat. I will leave you there.
If I do take the time to give a writer advice, I expect them to either show me some support by reading one of my books, promoting me, or turn around and mentor someone else. A writer’s time isn’t free just because we aren’t paid hourly. But, we give a lot of it away, because a lot of people gave their time away to us. Now, there it is. The connection between writing and success is a lot of time invested and a lot of help from other people. We have to learn about the industry, make connections, and promote our work. No magic. Just time and the hard work and time of other people.
Giving blanket advice to writers is wrong and dumb and mean and thoughtless and a generally bad idea.
There is no advice that applies to every writer. We’re all at different points in our artistic development and career. But, sometimes people get stuck in a herd…of writers, which they find comforting and validating. And then. They get cultish. It happens.
These rabid and blind writers start to believe they have found absolute knowledge about being an author. They begin to form rules. And that isn't criminal. But, someone of these creatures with laptops and pens, go after the young and those new to writing. They attempt to validate their rules by forcing others to follow them. They oppress creativity. They crush the artistic spark. They douse the fires. They trap the muse in a small cage and poke her with a stick.
Having said that, I would like invite you to read a copy of The Handbook of the Writer Secret Society. It's free when you follow our site and connect with us. While there are no oppressive rules to follow, authors do benefit from the company and companionship of encouraging and unoppressive writers and we've captured that in book form. This handbook holds the epiphanies, experiences and humor of many new authors progressing in their careers within our changing industry.
There are only two types of writers.
Idiots and fools. No! Kidding! We are engaging in a difficult process with uncertain reward or benefit, but there is nothing foolish about it. The benefit of writing is unique to each person and infinitely meaningful to many.
However, I personally classify writers into two categories: the hopeful and hopeless. Some writers add hope to my life and some take it away. It's that simple. I try to avoid the later. I try to identify them early on during our association and keep my distance. It's my overly simplified opinion that this distinction exists and I am proud to say that it has helped keep me writing. But, more than that. It is my opinion and not one I adopted from someone else.
Having and knowing and articulating my opinions is grand. I'm not sure I do it often enough. This month at Peevish Penman, all the authors and I are being opinionated just to practice opening up and saying what we really think without worrying about offending or alienating people. If you have a very opinionated post on your blog about writers, please link to it in the comments. I'd love to read it.
17 May 2013
08 May 2013
Just a bunch of SELL-OUTS!
by Rob Hines
Carrie shared this idea in a recent podcast, which you can view on our YouTube channel. Just because I'm insulting you doesn't mean I can't promote our stuff.
Romance be damned! I have mouths to feed, so I'm going to sell out with a smile on my face. Besides, selling out lets me come home to this every day...
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Yeah, I said it.
You're just a bunch of sell-outs.
You're just a bunch of sell-outs.
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| Peevish Penman is Selling Out on YouTube! |
But don't go there yet. Wait until I'm done calling you names.
By the way, Carrie was much nicer when she brought up the notion on the podcast. I, on the other hand, am choosing to paint with the broad brush. So there.
I really believe it's true, though. We writers are all resigned to sell out in at least one part of our lives in order to be "happy" and/or "successful." The life of an author requires a certain amount of fecal material that we're forced to plod through with a big smile because we're LIVING THE DREAM MAN!
I really believe it's true, though. We writers are all resigned to sell out in at least one part of our lives in order to be "happy" and/or "successful." The life of an author requires a certain amount of fecal material that we're forced to plod through with a big smile because we're LIVING THE DREAM MAN!
No, you say? Well, you're wrong.
"But Rob, I love to write and I get to write everyday so everything is wonderful!"
Excuse me while I wait for the unicorns to finish flying out of your rectum.
Admit it. There's something you're forced to do on a regular basis that allows you to write, but you'd love to not have to deal with it.
Maybe it's marketing (personally, I dig that stuff, but some people don't). Maybe it's dealing with editors. Maybe it's that damn day job that is supporting your writing pursuits.
And maybe it's the writing itself. If you're being paid to write, you're producing for a specific market. This market is now your boss, and you're committed to writing for them, not for you. Sure, it's better than a life sentence in a cubicle, but you're still giving up a little bit of yourself when you put those words on the page. Congratulations, you're selling out.
Can't deal with that idea? Good, that's what the comment section is for. Just promise you'll read the rest of this first. I can't stand commenters who don't read an entire article.
For those who stayed (I like you), I'm not trying to dissuade an entire community of writers from pursuing their dreams. It's just a fact of this life that we all have to accept, and it may help you determine what your writing path is going to be. Currently, I'm a tremendous sell-out because I'm working a full-time job for the paycheck and benefits, freelancing as a voiceover artist for some extra cash, AND attempting to become a professional writer because I want to write. None of these pursuits are going to bring me intense personal happiness because I'm simply serving someone else in each case. However, I choose to sell out so I can satisfy the one part of my life that brings an endless amount of joy: my family. If I get to do some writing for myself on the side, then that's a bonus.
"Well, just quit your job and write from home."
Who are you and what planet kicked you out?
Sure, that's the romantic version of the story. The writer with a dream gives it all up and lives as a hermit to pursue a career, and yeah, that might have worked for me 15 years ago. But the dream didn't show up until a couple years after I bought a home, and just before my son was born.
Romance be damned! I have mouths to feed, so I'm going to sell out with a smile on my face. Besides, selling out lets me come home to this every day...
If you don't like the idea of being a sell-out, that's fine. Just come up with a way to become a financially independent, million-selling author without giving up a little time or money in the interest of others. And once you figure that out, please share with the rest of us in the comments below, 'cause I got nothin'.
06 May 2013
Crickets and the Muse
By Molly Field
We were told this month to set out to offend someone (anyone) in our posts for the sake of engagement. This is a desperate attempt to get you, someone who's never commented on this blog before, to do the seemingly impossible: tell us what you think.
click here to hear some of your previous comments.
So I'm just going for it; this is totally full of non-sequiturs, so enjoy the ... whatever.
In an effort to prove to us that you have a pulse, working eyes, hands that can type, and that you're not a Chinese hacker and that you might disagree with anything I might say, I'm going to entice your wrath and write about the most devious of codependencies: how my writing benefits when someone's life is in the crapper.
If it's your life: I need it to stay there so I can write a story based on it without your permission. Because the more you stay asleep to the desperate existence you're hanging onto by a diaphanous thread, the better my content, the richer my dialogue, the tighter my story. The more asleep and blasé you are all the time, the better forsociopaths opportunists creatives like me.
I have someone in my life whom I've decidedlikes loves to feel sorry for itself. I'm going write in a gender neutral fashion or ich können sogar auf Deutsch und Sie benutzen das dritte Geschlecht, aber nein, ich will nicht*.
"Lesley's" rants are exhausting. This perforated, yo-yo height, hermaphrodite, Slavic cat dresserfriend of mine likes to fixate on the bad, drink too much, dress in charcoal gray, talk about death and sadness, and listen to The Cure, Nickelback, and Laura Branigan songs and also watch John Waters movies in the dark.
It's bad. "Lesley" needs help. And the name is all of it, the quotations included; its parents were new to the country when they adopted it from Illinois.
But I'm so torn!
"Lesley" is my muse for my main character, Chester Feltentooth! S/he's the pro/pre/ant-agonist (emphasis on agony) in my upcoming novel, People Who Should Have Stopped Trying: The Story of Potters in the Rain, out this summer by Too Bad So Sad press, a joint venture imprint of Cosmopolitan Magazine and Penzoil. Illustrations by Charles Addams and "The Family Circus" are blatantly stolen without any regard to copyright laws whatsoever.
Why so venom on poor "Lesley," Molly? Because I'm in a mood.
But I'm also in a tight spot... I mean, if "Lesley" wakes up and changes and improves its life, then where goes my muse? My fodder for my book? My manna for my novel? It's like this: I want "Lesley" to be just bad off enough to continue to live so I can steal its life for my story, but that's it. Any somatic improvement will knock this book off the best-seller's list.
So I tellthis person "Lesley," "You need help! You should take better care of yourself!" (While I walk it back into its dark house, inspect its mail for cash, throw away its bills, and guide it back to its cage. As its back is turned, I rest a case of Mad Dog 20/20 with bendy straws on its cage-side table, where I've tactfully replaced its clock and lamp with a carton of unfiltered Lucky Strikes next to my a sad clown Zippo lighter and play Carole King songs on repeat shuffle.)
Why? Because I'm a selfish, craven, unimaginative deviant who needs content and my brain is too jacked up on antibiotics from mygonorrhea strep throat, that's why.
I asked our fearless leader Carrie earlier,
"Are you serious about wanting to offend our readers? Because I'm about to let the snarling, scratching, feral, hissing, and rabid backwater cat out of its tattered burlap sack outside a Kinder Care,"
and she said this (after calling her lawyer):
How does that sound?! I'll tell you. It sounds like a cop out. (Just kidding, Carrie, I love you.)
So to all you mayonnaise chocolate cake eaters in your three-day-old pajamas, by all means: keep it up. I need you to maintain or elevate the lachrymose in your life so that I can finish my book. Hang out more with your toddler-pageant judges and repo friends! But ifyou suddenly run out of 20/20, call me you do want progress, and you really mean it -- give me the names and addresses of your toddler-pageant judges and repo friends because I need them. But think about the arts first. We need you.
However, change is hard. So if that second hour without a crisis in your life is too much, definitely consider dwelling in the past, do moan over things you can't change, and keep on licking those wounds, because as we all know: no wound gets better unless you fester over it and lick the hell out of it, just ask my coonhound "Gunther," who's now on his fifth round of antibiotics and steroid injections.
And don't even consider trying to write your own book. Only losers write their own books; here's a white zinfandel slushy, give your story to me. Want some pork rinds? Well, I just so happen to have some... right next to the VCR. Do you smoke? Is it me or is it too bright in here?
I can't say this any better than veteran New Yorker cartoonist, Roz Chast in the April 15, 2013, issue:
So... do you have any comments for me? Who's your muse? Want some 20/20?
*I can even go German on you and use the third gender, but no, I won't.
Tweet
We were told this month to set out to offend someone (anyone) in our posts for the sake of engagement. This is a desperate attempt to get you, someone who's never commented on this blog before, to do the seemingly impossible: tell us what you think.
click here to hear some of your previous comments.
So I'm just going for it; this is totally full of non-sequiturs, so enjoy the ... whatever.
![]() |
| http://www.scmp.com/sites/default/files/styles/980w/public/2013/02/04/comp.jpg?itok=9JXFZ9H3 |
If it's your life: I need it to stay there so I can write a story based on it without your permission. Because the more you stay asleep to the desperate existence you're hanging onto by a diaphanous thread, the better my content, the richer my dialogue, the tighter my story. The more asleep and blasé you are all the time, the better for
I have someone in my life whom I've decided
"Lesley's" rants are exhausting. This perforated, yo-yo height, hermaphrodite, Slavic cat dresser
It's bad. "Lesley" needs help. And the name is all of it, the quotations included; its parents were new to the country when they adopted it from Illinois.
But I'm so torn!
"Lesley" is my muse for my main character, Chester Feltentooth! S/he's the pro/pre/ant-agonist (emphasis on agony) in my upcoming novel, People Who Should Have Stopped Trying: The Story of Potters in the Rain, out this summer by Too Bad So Sad press, a joint venture imprint of Cosmopolitan Magazine and Penzoil. Illustrations by Charles Addams and "The Family Circus" are blatantly stolen without any regard to copyright laws whatsoever.
Why so venom on poor "Lesley," Molly? Because I'm in a mood.
But I'm also in a tight spot... I mean, if "Lesley" wakes up and changes and improves its life, then where goes my muse? My fodder for my book? My manna for my novel? It's like this: I want "Lesley" to be just bad off enough to continue to live so I can steal its life for my story, but that's it. Any somatic improvement will knock this book off the best-seller's list.
So I tell
![]() |
| http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/SadClown.jpg |
Why? Because I'm a selfish, craven, unimaginative deviant who needs content and my brain is too jacked up on antibiotics from my
I asked our fearless leader Carrie earlier,
"Are you serious about wanting to offend our readers? Because I'm about to let the snarling, scratching, feral, hissing, and rabid backwater cat out of its tattered burlap sack outside a Kinder Care,"
and she said this (after calling her lawyer):
Ultimately, you've got to decide what you want your name on. Don't worry about the site's reputation. If you feel that it would be helpful, write a foreword to the article that serves as a sort of disclaimer to prepare the readers for a change in tone and give it some context.
How does that sound?
How does that sound?! I'll tell you. It sounds like a cop out. (Just kidding, Carrie, I love you.)
So to all you mayonnaise chocolate cake eaters in your three-day-old pajamas, by all means: keep it up. I need you to maintain or elevate the lachrymose in your life so that I can finish my book. Hang out more with your toddler-pageant judges and repo friends! But if
However, change is hard. So if that second hour without a crisis in your life is too much, definitely consider dwelling in the past, do moan over things you can't change, and keep on licking those wounds, because as we all know: no wound gets better unless you fester over it and lick the hell out of it, just ask my coonhound "Gunther," who's now on his fifth round of antibiotics and steroid injections.
And don't even consider trying to write your own book. Only losers write their own books; here's a white zinfandel slushy, give your story to me. Want some pork rinds? Well, I just so happen to have some... right next to the VCR. Do you smoke? Is it me or is it too bright in here?
I can't say this any better than veteran New Yorker cartoonist, Roz Chast in the April 15, 2013, issue:
So... do you have any comments for me? Who's your muse? Want some 20/20?
*I can even go German on you and use the third gender, but no, I won't.
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