Last week I began a discussion sparked by a provocative post by Mr. Porter Anderson at Writer Unboxed. The first part of my response is here. We had a robust debate in the comments, but I’ll try to summarize the first issue I’ve addressed, which is the plethora of teaching and “author services” appearing, in Porter’s words, like “toadstools” all over the internet. My view, in agreement with Porter, is that many of these are not worth the money and some are downright scams.
Porter would like me, and other “legitimate” teachers (I thank him for carving out an exception for me and colleagues like Donald Maass and David Corbett) to cry foul and go after charlatans publicly. But that is not my job or responsibility. Others have taken that on. My solution is the old but still valid rule: Let the buyer beware.
And yes, that is enough. I’m not a nanny.
Now, on to Issue #2: Is it the best or worst time to be a writer?
Here we come to a piece quoted by Porter, written by an anonymous literary agent in the UK. Calling him/her self “Agent Orange,” he/she wrote a post for The Bookseller which opens:
On the face of it, it is paradoxical that while it’s never been easier for authors to get their books into print, there has never been a worse time to be an author. Author earnings are down and the number of writers able to make a living out of their work is at an all-time low.
While this was mainly a jumping off point for Orange to complain about writing courses and teachers, I can’t let this sentiment go unchallenged.
I’ve been expressing exactly the opposite view since 2009. I give my reasons here. To save time, I’ll just refer you to that post, which I stand by. Further, both Porter and I have cited the amazing work being done by Hugh Howey and Data Guy and their quarterly Author Earnings reports.
Bottom line: in terms of making actual money, and even an actual living from writing fiction, it is beyond all question, doubt, cavil, or dispute that this is the best time on Earth to be a writer.
As the old political rejoinder goes, you are entitled to your own opinion, but you are not entitled to your own facts.
Now, to be fair to Agent Orange, I do think there’s a bit of context we have to understand. I haven’t spent a lot of time studying this out, but there seems to be a more entrenched traditional book publishing culture in the UK, and it is those authors who are seeing their incomes go down significantly. It’s happening here in the U.S., too, of course. But across the pond there’s a greater concern over the survival of the “writer as artist” ideal.
To which I respond: This is nothing new. It’s always been difficult for any artist to cobble a living from their art. And by art I mean singular vision as opposed to commercial production.
How many artists in history have ever been able to support themselves by doing, for want of a better phrase, “their own thing”? How many Jackson Pollock wannabes have tried to out Jackson Jackson, only to be completely and utterly ignored? (And there are those who think the original Jackson should have been ignored, but that’s another discussion entirely.)
How many structure-hating novelists have poured their souls onto the page, only to be rejected fully and finally? Or, if managing to get a small press to take a flyer, seen ten book sales and no publicity, not even from their local paper?
If you want to pursue the life of a solitary genius, that’s never been a road to riches. If you expect to be treated with a velvet backscratcher, and have the literary elite fete and fawn over you, then yes, times are not great. But they have never been great for this kind of artist.
I believe this is the “writerly culture” that Agent Orange sees as doomed.
But consider: writers who love to tell stories, who entertain, who work at their craft, who are productive, who keep striving to get better, who don’t see plot as a four-letter word (irony intended)—these writers now have a better chance to realize a return on their work than at any time in the history of storytelling. From Og the cave dweller, who told the first story (you know, the one about killing the mastodon) to Geoffrey Chaucer and Jonathan Swift and James Fenimore Cooper and Mark Twain and Edgar Rice Burroughs and Jack London and Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler and Dorothy Sayers and Erle Stanley Gardner and Herman Wouk and Nora Roberts and Stephen King and John Grisham and Michael Connelly and J. K. Rowling and James Patterson…
…to all of the new (or formerly midlist) writers who are now earning five, six and sometimes seven figures a year because of the disruption called digital self-publishing, I say without any qualm – and eschewing dew eyes, Kleenex, and exclamation points – that it is indeed the best time on Earth to be a writer.
Is there still room for the solitary, literary genius? Yes, and even more room than before. If the artist is not insistent on a traditional print run and New Yorker reviews, he or she has a good chance at finding readers via self-publishing. Or by partnering with a digital company that knows what it’s doing. (Unless your goal is to win the National Book Award. Then all I can say is, good luck to you, because that’s always been a matter of “writerly culture” roulette. Lightning may strike. But be prepared to have some stamina, and a day job. I refer you to Mark Z. Danielewski, whose 27 volume, 22,680 page experimental epic is only now leaving the starting gate.)
So to all writers I say, jump into the indie pool. Even if you’re trad published, establish some sort of indie footprint with short-form work. Talk to your agent and editor about a plan going forward.
And tell them the water’s fine. We’re even serving margaritas at poolside.
So which is it – the best of times or the worst of times to be a writer?
