The Work Itself

The chief reward of any artistic effort (and perhaps of every other effort as well) is the work itself. Success lies in the accomplishment, not in its fruits. If I write well, I’m a success. Wealth and fame might be fun (or they might not) but they’re largely beside the point.

—Lawrence Block, in Telling Lies for Fun & Profit

 

I am a big fan of Lawrence Block, of both his fiction and his books on writing.

When I first read the above quote, I was very enthusiastic about it. Because it told me that what I write has value in and of itself — if done well — regardless of the fruit that may or may not come of it.

Block’s statement, “If I write well, I’m a success,” resonated with me. Why? Because I wanted to believe it.

However, that statement was made by a man who is in fact a monetarily successful (millionaire), peer acclaimed, and much admired writer. According to his own statement, Mr. Block has always made his living by his typewriter or keyboard.

When I pondered that fact, the steam went out of my enthusiasm for his sentiments.

Years ago, when I was writing poetry and having lots of it published, I had a discussion with the late Jane Reichhold, who was a big name in English language Japanese-style poetry. The discussion had to do with this very subject of success.

Rainer Maria Rilke, in his first letter to the young poet, made the same argument that Mr. Block made. That success lies in writing well. I mentioned this to Jane, and then added, “But Rilke was a published and successful poet.” And her reply was: “There you have it.”

It is easy for the successful (in the eyes of the world and the bank) to tell the rest of us that success lies in doing something well. That “The chief reward of any artistic effort… is the work itself.” Written, I’m sure, while Mr. Block was cashing his royalty checks at the bank.

Now, I don’t wish to take anything away from Mr. Block, because he’s an author I very much like and admire, and who has given me many hours of pleasure and much valuable advice. But that is exactly my point: he has legions of followers and admirers. When the tree falls in his woods, there are many, very many, who hear it.

When the tree falls in my woods, who hears it? Considerably fewer than in Mr. Block’s woods — or Rilke’s, for that matter.

I’m not saying it’s all about the money, or the awards — because I don’t think it is. Those are merely the results of something else. Namely, recognition. Admiration.

When Aeschylus staged his plays, was he actually after the prize? Or was the prize merely the totem signifying the judges’ and audience’s recognition of the greatness of his writing? I’d hazard a guess it was the latter.

In The Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche posits that the only thing that can save us, once we’ve peered into the abyss, is Art. Art being a symbol of that creative force that distinguishes gods from men. Gods create, and then look upon their creation and pronounce it good, or not (think the Flood).

As a writer, when I complete a work of fiction, I say the same thing: it is good (or not).

And while salvation, according to Nietzsche, lies in Art, I can’t help but wonder if he forgot that all gods want adulation — they demand worshippers.

If the god outside of me is dead, because I’ve become God — then don’t I, too, need worshippers as do all the gods? And if I don’t have them, don’t I become dead as well?

The Star Trek episode “Who Mourns for Adonais?” explored this theme, and the conclusion was that gods do indeed need worshippers in order to be gods.

Therefore, as a creative, is my work its own reward? Or does it need admirers? Do I need admirers? Does a tree falling in the woods make any sound if there’s no one there to hear it? What is the sound of one hand clapping?

I have no answer at this point. I want to believe Mr. Block’s statement and that of Rainer Maria Rilke before him. However, I can’t help but think that the writers of “Who Mourns for Adonais?” got it right.

Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading! 

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Plagiarism and Ghostwriting

This past week I got two emails from writers referencing the Brazilian romance writer who employed ghostwriters to produce books for him or her. (I don’t know the writer’s gender.) Apparently, the writer was trying to feed reader demand. In the process, it seems the ghostwriters plagiarized the works of some 20 authors.

I feel sorry for the Brazilian. He or she was trying to meet reader demand and make a buck and got burned.

In the wake of this scandal, writers, it seems, have been impugning the age old practice of ghostwriting. One of the writers who sent me an email even went so far as to call ghostwriting dishonest when it comes to fiction. But not nonfiction. That logical disconnect I don’t understand. 

Whether we’re speaking of ghostwriting fiction or nonfiction, the so called author is claiming the work is his or her own creation, when in fact it isn’t. Or is to only a minimal degree. Logically, if ghostwriting is immoral for fiction it should also be immoral for nonfiction. Either the practice is immoral or it isn’t.

Plagiarism

Personally, I think plagiarism is wrong. Just like I think reproducing a Chippendale and then trying to pass it off as the woodworker’s original work, or even as an original Chippendale, is also wrong. Plagiarism = Forgery.

In Western culture, at least modern Western culture, we respect the original work of the artist and seek to preserve the creator’s right to earn money from that work if he or she so chooses.

However, I do think this attitude is peculiar to contemporary Western culture. It wasn’t always that way in our past. And other cultures don’t necessarily share our view. But that is a discussion for another post.

But where does plagiarism stop? Is it plagiarism if one sentence gets copied? I suppose it can legally be called plagiarism, even though the copier didn’t steal the entire work of the other author and pass it off as his or her own. And the “stealing” of one sentence hardly threatens the creator’s livelihood. 

Nevertheless, we don’t look kindly on that sort of thing. We want creators to be 100% original. Which, of course, is impossible. There is nothing new under the sun, the Preacher reminds us.

It is interesting how attitudes change. In the Baroque period, copying another musician’s work, with the intent to improve upon it, was common practice.

Bach copied (or transcribed, if one prefers) numerous concerti of Vivaldi and other composers. The Bach transcriptions were for organ and harpsichord. The originals were for string instruments. To my ear, the Bach transcriptions didn’t improve much, if any, on Vivaldi’s original work. Was Bach in fact a plagiarist? Probably by our standards. He would have been hounded out of today’s music industry. His work banned. Hm. Something to think about.

But in those days, thoughts on creativity were different. Composers even borrowed from themselves! Because they were often under tremendous pressure to produce. They were after all employees, for the most part.

In the Baroque period ideas were free for all to improve upon. By today’s standard, however, almost all of the composers in that era would be guilty of plagiarism.

Back then, copying each other’s work was how new musical forms were shared and musical styles spread. This sharing, in an attempt to always improve, wasn’t considered plagiarism. And thanks to Bach’s “plagiarism” we rediscovered Vivaldi and his massive body of wonderful music.

Very interesting how times have changed. Isn’t it?

Ghostwriting

Hiring someone to create a work of art is a time honored practice. A ghostwriter is simply a writer who is willing to write something for you for a fee. It is a form of work for hire. The ghostwriter gets paid, and the one doing the hiring gets his or her name on the work as the author.

To suggest that there is something morally evil about ghostwriting fiction is to announce to the world one’s lack of understanding what a work for hire is.

Alexandre Dumas used many assistants and collaborators — none of which, to my knowledge, got their names on the covers of his books. Does that bother any of us today when we read a novel by Dumas? I hardly think so. It certainly didn’t bother the readers then, who couldn’t wait for his next novel to appear.

HP Lovecraft ghosted short stories for Hazel Heald and Zealia Bishop. Were those women immoral for asking Lovecraft to do so? Was Lovecraft immoral for accepting the jobs? I think all three were satisfied with the arrangements that were made. The women got their stories, and Lovecraft got money that he badly needed.

Or what about Kipling and Haggard? Those two fast friends often spent the day writing together. If one got stuck, the other helped his friend out. So how much of Kipling is Kipling and how much of Haggard is Haggard? I suppose we’ll never know.

There is nothing wrong with ghostwriting or with claiming a ghostwritten novel is yours. It’s the very nature of work that is contracted for hire. 

For the ghosts, our friendly Caspers, it’s often a good deal. A ghost can earn up to $25,000 (or even more) per book — which is far more money than most writers ever make on a book. The person for whom the ghost wrote the book will probably never get his or her money back. If anything, hiring a ghost is probably closer to financial stupidity than immorality.

Derek Murphy has a very good blogpost on this subject. It’s well worth your time to read.

Pressure to Produce

Sometime ago a writer was publicly complaining he’d like to take a break. He was tired. I urged him to do so. He replied he couldn’t because he needed the money and his fans wouldn’t let him.

He sounds like a candidate for burnout if I ever heard one.

But the pressure to produce, especially for those writers who are selling their work in sufficient quantity to pay the rent and put food on the table, is considerable. Even to the detriment of one’s health.

It is true the indie mantra is to write fast, write lots, and publish often. If you want a chance at making money.

Why? Because the world of indie writers and readers is the 21st-century version of the pulp fiction era. Success came to the pulp writers of the ‘20s, ‘30s, and ‘40s by following the above formula.

For example, Erle Stanley Gardner wrote 100,000 words a month, month after month while holding down a full-time job as a partner in a law firm. He assigned himself that grueling word count because he wanted to ditch the law job. Which he eventually did.

William Wallace Cook produced many hundreds of works of fiction, drama, and poetry for over 20 years to put food on his table and a roof over his head. Writing was his only source of income. He’d quit his job when one month the payments for his stories were greater than his paycheck. He tells his story (under a pen name) in his book The Fiction Factory.

H. Bedford-Jones was called King of the Pulps (until he passed the title to Gardner) due to his prolificity.

Edgar Wallace, who was dictating complete novels in 3 days back before World War I, was at one point said to have penned a quarter of the novels published in Britain.

Before them there was Anthony Trollope, the Victorian Writing Machine. While working full time for the post office, Trollope wrote 2,500 words in 2 1/2 hours every day. That’s 912,500 words/year. Trollope felt that was enough for any writer. And even when Trollope quit the post office, he never wrote for more than 2 1/2 hours each day.

Also keep in mind, one secret of Trollope’s prolificity was that he didn’t revise. He wrote finished text. When the final word of the novel was penned, he simply sent it to the publisher.

And Lawrence Block, for an example from the post-pulp era, wrote over a hundred novels under pen names during the ‘50s and ‘60s before he started to make it to the big time. Under his own name, he has produced dozens of books to put a roof over his head and food on his table. Writing has been his only job for his entire adult life.

In today’s pop fiction world, demand for books seems insatiable. Some writers write fast enough to keep up with demand. Others cannot.

If a writer has a great idea for a novel, but realizes he or she may not get around to writing it, and gives that idea to a ghost — what is wrong with the practice? The writer is happy, the ghost is happy, and the reader is happy.

How is ghosting any different than when a big-name writer, who has an idea for a book or a series, asks someone to write it for him or her? And then shares the authorship — thereby promoting the less well known writer? The big name writer probably had little input into the work, but that doesn’t stop us from reading.

What is wrong with either scenario? It seems to me this is a win-win situation.

In a very real sense, it is readers who are driving writers to produce faster and faster. Because readers want books!

Where I’m At

I think plagiarizing entire books or sizable chunks of a book is wrong. When it gets down to words and sentences, I think things start to get very gray. But best to play it safe and not copy.

Plagiarizing ideas is an even trickier area. After all, there is nothing new under the sun.

Many authors copied the Cthulhu mythos and added to it. Were they plagiarizing? I don’t know. Lovecraft, himself, was okay with it. He didn’t seem to think it was plagiarizing. On the other hand, if he had, then the Cthulhu mythos probably would have died with him.

Still, to be on the safe side, it’s undoubtedly best not to copy an idea as elucidated by a particular writer without the writer’s permission. Unless the writer who’s copying is going to personalize it to the degree that the idea becomes “new”. Or at least unrecognizable as to its origin.

Concerning ghostwriting, I don’t think it’s wrong. Would I use a ghost? No. Why? Because I love the process of writing. Hiring a ghost would deny me what I enjoy most.

I’m interested in your thoughts. Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

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The Joy of Creativity

There is nothing more satisfying than being a Creator, or being around Creators. There’s an indescribable electricity when Creatives are together. The experience is exhilarating.

Last week, my wife and I were on Madeline Island. She was enrolled in a plein air oil painting workshop. I tagged along to be pack horse, and encourager, and to do some writing.

If you don’t know, Madeline Island is the largest island in the Apostle Islands chain, off the coast of Wisconsin, in Lake Superior. The island is beautifully wooded and possesses some fabulous views of the largest of the Great Lakes.

Aside from the plein air workshop, there was a workshop for mixed media and another one for quilters.

To be with so many Creatives all in one setting was supremely stimulating. I had a blast interacting with the artists and the tag along spouses.

I got in some extensive walking, worked on a novel (part of a new series I intend to launch next year), sketched out 3 story ideas (which were provided by some of the artists) and wrote a haiku.

The advice is legendary: if you feel stuck in your writing (or any other creative endeavor), go on a trip. The change of scenery stimulates the creative juices. With last week in mind, I’d add: go on a trip with other Creatives who are not in your field of interest.

Seeing the way oil painters view and interpret the world provided me with new insights. 

Those new insights ramped up my own creative energy. Those new insights took me back to the time when I experimented with haiga, a Japanese art form that links a picture and a poem together to form a whole creative expression. Hence the haiku, the traditional poetic form used in haiga.

In addition, those new insights and the conversations I had with the artists gave me some new fiction ideas.

I came home from the island with my Creativity supercharged.

Writing is, for me, like breathing. I can’t live without it. Shoot, I love writing the grocery list! Part of the excitement is the tactile experience. Holding the pencil. The feel of the soft lead as it glides across the paper. The texture of the paper. Or the feel of the fountain pen or dip pen holder. The movement of the pen point across the paper. Watching the ink or graphite form my thoughts into words, words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs. It’s an experience that’s better than magic.

Creatives are relatively rare, which is why I think so many people want to be a Creative. Creatives, though, are gifted. They are a breed apart. They cannot ever not create.

In every culture, the deities that are worshipped are Creators. Which is an indication to me that Creators are held in high regard by all cultures. They are special. Divine, as it were.

People may emulate Creators. They may even master a creative medium. But if they are not Creators, heart and soul, they will ultimately lose interest.

Rainer Maria Rilke, in the first letter of Letters to a Young Poet, advised that the one who wants to create must first look deep within and ask the question, “Must I write, paint, sculpt, throw pots, blow glass, etc, etc.”

If the answer is yes, then Rilke says you must structure your entire life so that you can create. If the answer comes back, no, this is not a must — then go and do something else. There is no shame in this. We must all do what we were meant to do. Don’t become frustrated trying to do what was not meant for you to do.

I love writing. I loved it before going to Madeline Island, and I love it even more for having been there.

Many, many thanks to the Madeline Island School of the Arts (MISA) and the beautiful people at the workshop (my wife included!) who reconfirmed what I’ve always wanted to do with my life.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy creating!

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Tell Your Story (or Stories)

There is one advantage age gives a person: it is perspective. The journey through time and experiencing what one experiences gives one a world view, a weltanschauung, which if understood can be an invaluable guide to the present.

Not all old people are wise. But they all have experiences that a wiser and younger person can learn from. To write such in today’s youth culture is tantamount to spitting in the wind. But the older I get I know it is true. I don’t claim to be wise, because I’m not. I do, though, have a bit of history under my belt which gives me some perspective.

Crispian Thurlborn’s sharing of a link on ebook pricing got me started on thinking about writing and publishing. The link set me off in search of Dean Wesley Smith’s website. Smith has perspective. He also has some wisdom. His series, Killing the Sacred Cows of Publishing, has valuable advice to consider. Thanks Crispian for the adventure in rumination!

O, To Be A Writer!

I’ve wanted to be a writer for over fifty years. That is probably longer than some of you have been alive. I looked forward every month, back in the ‘60s, to receiving my copies of The Writer and Writer’s Digest and dreamed of the day when a few scribbles on a sheet of paper would earn me hundreds of dollars (yeah, a hundred was big back then).

From then until now, I’ve observed what others have to say about writing and publishing. I’ve noticed two things: publishing has changed and writing has not. What was good writing in the ‘60s remains good writing in the teens of the 21st century. However, what was true about the publishing world of the ‘60s wasn’t even true 30 years later and is even less true today. The publishing world has changed big time.

A Mini Timeline of Publishing

Here is a very brief timeline of publishing:

1534 – Cambridge University Press founded. The world’s oldest publishing company.

1663 – The world’s first magazine appears in Germany.

1709 – British Copyright Act is passed. This lays the foundation for modern publishing.

1700s – Commercial lending libraries

1731 – The Gentleman’s Magazine. Considered to be the first modern magazine is published in England.

1793 – first daily newspaper appears in America.

1800s – Public libraries appear.

1845 – Paperbacks are introduced as newspaper supplements in US.

1850s – The techniques of mass production are adopted by the book trade. The publishing industry as we know it today begins in the Victorian era. That wonderful Machine Age!

The Writer and the Book!

The biggest change to publishing since Gutenberg’s printing press is the ebook. Inconceivable as a viable reading medium even ten years ago. The Kindle made it’s appearance on November 19, 2007. That event was as big a change in the world of books as was Gutenberg. Science fiction had become reality.

What the ebook did is return publishing once more to the writer. Self-publishing goes back to ancient times. Someone would write a book (by hand with a pen) and either make copies him/herself, or hire copyists, and share the love. When the printing press came along, the writer could now give his/her manuscript to the printer and hire him to produce books for him or her. As can be seen self-publishing was the only publishing for a very long time.

Then in the Victorian era, publishing houses took off. Publishing as we know it today, where writers submit their manuscripts to publishers and either get a rejection slip or a check, started in the 1800s. Modern publishing is 200 years old. A mere babe.

What the Kindle did is make the concept of the ebook a viable commercial product and because of the ready availability of the software to make ebooks, the writer now had at his or her disposal desktop publishing on steroids.

Have No Fear!

Today, anyone can publish a book. This scares some people. In fact, it scares a lot of people. My goodness, the hoi polloi can now produce a book. Goodness, who even taught them to read?! Let alone write?!

My fifty plus years of observation has taught me that fear is a powerful weapon to squash innovation and to establish a pecking order.

When I was actively writing poetry, I frequented forums early on. I saw this fear in operation. The fear established by the “old timers” to keep the newbies in line. Harsh criticism and ridicule. “What? You call that a sonnet? Why you have a trochee where one shouldn’t be!” That kind of rubbish. Or, “Well, there is nothing very wrong with your sonnet, but shouldn’t you have something to say before you write one?”

The worst was when a writer ended up rewriting his or her good poem into mediocrity by listening to everyone’s “advice”.

Needless to say, I left those forums. I didn’t need that crap. As a writer, I already had enough self-doubts. I didn’t need more. What got rid of the self-doubt was the fact that I submitted work and got it accepted. Writing and submitting and getting it published proved to me I could write. A friend, who was a well-known regional writer, also gave me huge amounts of encouragement. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere waiting for approval from the forum folks. Encouragement and support, not fear, is what we need.

My advice is to have no fear. Everyone of us has a story or two or three to tell. So tell it. Write it down, stare down your demons, and send it off. Or better yet, publish it yourself and let the reader decide.

Writers Write

Writers write and editors edit and publishers publish and agents take your money.

Notice, only writers write. The others do something else. But that doesn’t mean a writer can’t also do those things. After all, they did so for millennia before editors, publishers, and agents showed up on the scene. A writer should be able to edit and proof his or her own work. Another pair of eyes, someone who knows what a good story is like, is also helpful. That other pair of eyes will catch things our own eyes think is there but isn’t.

Mark Twain started his own publishing company. So did Edgar Rice Burroughs. They did so to have control over their work.

That is the key: control. I write a work. Why give away control of that work to someone else? Would you give control of your car or your significant other or your children to someone else? I don’t think so. So why do so with your literary baby?

Writers write, but they can also publish and in today’s world it is easier than ever. In fact, self-publishing is often the key to getting noticed by a big publisher.

You and Your Voice are Important

If you want to write, then write. It is the best feeling in the world. Just write. Don’t give a flying fig about what anyone says. Just write.

The more you write, the more you learn about the craft of writing. Rewriting does little or nothing for you. We’re called writers, not rewriters. Any prolific author simply sits down and writes. They have to, it’s how they make their money. By writing.

Don’t let fear kill your creativity. Don’t let other people’s expectations kill your creativity. If you have to write, write. Sure the first story or book may not be very good. So send it off and start another. My early poems, when I look at them today, ugh! So many are just plain awful — and yet editors took some of them and published them. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Freedom!

What ebooks and print on demand offer writers today is freedom. Freedom from the tyranny of the Man who has a bottom line to consider. Freedom from the Man who will take whatever he can from you because you are disposable, a paper cup. Why? Because writers are a dime a dozen. There are plenty waiting in line behind you.

Robert E Howard wrote to H P Lovecraft that the main reason he wanted to be a writer was for the freedom it gave him. Freedom from the 8 to 5 Man. Today’s writer can even have freedom from the Publisher Man. I think Howard would have loved that.

Today, we writers can get rid of the middleman. Nothing need stand between us and the reader. We can proof and edit our own books. Secure our own art for our books. Not have someone tell us the book is too long or too short or we need to cut this part because readers won’t like it or the CEO won’t like it.

We have freedom. And I think that is a good thing.

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