Comments on: BEA: I’m Not a Villian, Just a Lit Blogger! http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/ Writing about writing Sat, 11 Feb 2012 06:58:38 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3 By: Scott at Slushpile.net http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/comment-page-1/#comment-10375 Scott at Slushpile.net Fri, 26 May 2006 03:15:36 +0000 http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/#comment-10375 Yes, but Faulkner was always perpetually besieged by money problems. So I guess maybe that helps his standing in the "real writer" club. Yes, but Faulkner was always perpetually besieged by money problems. So I guess maybe that helps his standing in the “real writer” club.

]]> By: the watcher http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/comment-page-1/#comment-10138 the watcher Thu, 25 May 2006 01:07:21 +0000 http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/#comment-10138 william faulkner was selling 1,000 copies of "the wild palms" a week. that's not in the millions, but its far more than something that "sell in the hundreds." i guess nobel prize winning faulkner wasn't a "real" writer. william faulkner was selling 1,000 copies of “the wild palms” a week. that’s not in the millions, but its far more than something that “sell in the hundreds.” i guess nobel prize winning faulkner wasn’t a “real” writer.

]]> By: Paul Clayton http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/comment-page-1/#comment-10047 Paul Clayton Wed, 24 May 2006 18:36:57 +0000 http://www.slushpile.net/index.php/2006/05/24/bea-im-not-a-villian-just-a-lit-blogger/#comment-10047 With the exception of Joyce Carol Oates (who I once shared a bit of fame with, by the way, when in 2001, my novel, along with hers, was among the six, yes, only six, finalists in the fiction category of the 2001 Frankfurt eBook Awards). . . As I was saying, with the exception of Joyce Carol Oates, I don’t see many real writers among the celebrity signers and authors at this event. It’s just another BIG PUBLISHING marketing department schmooze fest designed to “move product.” To throw in a little evidence of this, in case anyone needs any, I note your mention of folks hoping to have a napkin or drink coaster signed, not caring if they have a book or not. Sour grapes, you say? Yeah, there’s still a little of that. But I’ve long gotten used to the reality that at this time in the publishing world, everyone makes money -- except the writers, real writers, that is. Spending money on events like this, instead of on ads and readings by new and midlist writers, might help explain why. As a real writer, I’ve long ago accepted all of this. But that doesn’t mean I can’t bitch about it from time to time. I’m just telling it like it is, to use an old 60’s-ism, because I no longer give a damn. Real writers aren’t movie star attractive like the people in those glossies. And they don’t co-author with their dogs, cats, or gerbils. They don’t use bullets when they write, nor are they Hollywood or Washington DC used-to-be’s looking to squeeze the few last dollars out of their fast disappearing fame. Real writers labor in obscurity. They sell in the hundreds, not millions. They are often poorly dressed, despising fashion and labels. And they would need a least a double Scotch or Bourbon to stomach one of these showy gab fests. Well, you did say leave your rant, I mean, comment. So there it is. Laugh at it all and keep on writing. Paul Clayton With the exception of Joyce Carol Oates (who I once shared a bit of fame with, by the way, when in 2001, my novel, along with hers, was among the six, yes, only six, finalists in the fiction category of the 2001 Frankfurt eBook Awards). . . As I was saying, with the exception of Joyce Carol Oates, I don’t see many real writers among the celebrity signers and authors at this event. It’s just another BIG PUBLISHING marketing department schmooze fest designed to “move product.” To throw in a little evidence of this, in case anyone needs any, I note your mention of folks hoping to have a napkin or drink coaster signed, not caring if they have a book or not.

Sour grapes, you say? Yeah, there’s still a little of that. But I’ve long gotten used to the reality that at this time in the publishing world, everyone makes money — except the writers, real writers, that is. Spending money on events like this, instead of on ads and readings by new and midlist writers, might help explain why.

As a real writer, I’ve long ago accepted all of this. But that doesn’t mean I can’t bitch about it from time to time. I’m just telling it like it is, to use an old 60’s-ism, because I no longer give a damn. Real writers aren’t movie star attractive like the people in those glossies. And they don’t co-author with their dogs, cats, or gerbils. They don’t use bullets when they write, nor are they Hollywood or Washington DC used-to-be’s looking to squeeze the few last dollars out of their fast disappearing fame. Real writers labor in obscurity. They sell in the hundreds, not millions. They are often poorly dressed, despising fashion and labels. And they would need a least a double Scotch or Bourbon to stomach one of these showy gab fests.

Well, you did say leave your rant, I mean, comment. So there it is. Laugh at it all and keep on writing.
Paul Clayton

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