Lit Rant: A Few Thousand People Does Not a Movement Make (Or Why Podcasting Ain’t That Great)
One thing that irks me about all these online movements is the people of these movements–particularly the folks who hold some sort of fame–assume that their “successes” have had a legitimate affect on the publishing industry (or whatever industry they are a part of). This is especially so with the podcasting world. Those of us who pay attention to podfiction (and related podcasts) are constantly told that “publishing has changed, and we did it…and so can you.” This is disingenuous. Publishing hasn’t changed. If that were true we would see mainstream publishing scrambling to pick up the next big podcaster; we would see huge paychecks issued out to existing podcasters and more people than just those who happen to know what a podcast is would be talking about it. But guess what…this isn’t happening. A handful of podcasters have succeeded in getting legitimately published, but they haven’t changed publishing in any way. Most of them are published with particularly small presses, which is fine, except that a small press is unlikely to influence the larger publishing presses who actually have a stake in the persistence of the publishing industry as a whole; small presses are not the ones making bookselling a billion dollar industry, and likewise are almost never involved in the grander elements of publishing (can anyone name a small press book that was only published via a small press and was then turned into a major motion picture?). Even the top voices in podcasting are, at best, midlist authors, and, at worst, obscure names who are part of a very selective niche; they have gained notoriety not necessarily as writers, but more as entertainers who wrote a book. I’m not trying to belittle what these podcasters have done; I only want to put things into the proper perspective, because too many people think podcasting is the answer to all their publishing woes, when in reality it isn’t. I have an enormous problem with podfiction authors and the way they represent themselves, because all I see are people being duped into something based on a lie–almost like vanity presses. Most podfiction authors are entirely willing to peddle fantasy without playing the truth card as well. What is the truth? You are unlikely to get a particular work published. Ever. If you do get published, it’s unlikely that a large press will take notice and it’s equally as unlikely that you will be successful enough to warrant quitting your day job. Most publishers don’t necessarily care about a work that has already been put out there, just as they are not likely to snatch up a book you self-published via Lulu (and exceptions have been made, but your chances are next to nil) You’re not likely to make any money at it. You’re not likely to build a sizable fanbase. Only a few podcasters actually have this, and most of those folks have been at this for years. Almost all podcasters come in, try it, and fade out of existence, just as anyway, only somewhat more brutally since you put significantly more time into a podcast production than you would if you published a book with a traditional publisher (since the publisher would put in most of the work of actually putting your book into stores). It’s a hell of a lot of work. You can’t just read a book and expect people to love it. Quality and content play a big role. Podcasting your fiction is not the answer to not being picked up by a publisher. It’s also not always the best answer for your writing. Sometimes you just suck. Podcasting is self-publishing. There is no difference except that one is print and the other is audio. It’s still self-publishing, no matter what title you put it under. Exception is made to already published books that are podcast for promotional purposes (and there’s almost never and instance of such a thing that isn’t meant for promotion). There are no Stephen Kings or Stephanie Meyers’ in the podcasting world. None. There are some slightly successful authors, but none of them are selling at the level of the big names in traditional publishing (Grisham, King, Meyers, Rowling, Roberts, Brown, and the hundreds of others who have sold at least 100,000 copies of a single book). Again, I don’t want this rant to be misconstrued as a way of belittling podcasting, but I think it is necessary to be harsh on this “industry” because it is so often improperly represented as something that it is not. At best, podfiction has influenced publishing only so much as to make traditional publishers see the value in providing free content to potential readers, but the model of publishing has not changed at all. Major publishers, the real pushers in fiction, are not going to buy a book because they think it might make a good podcast, or because it happened to be a podcast; they are going to buy a book because they think they can sell it and make money on it. That’s the most important reason for purchases by such publishers. It’s a fact of life: publishers are trying to make a profit, and to do that they need to buy books they think readers will like. A few thousand people does not a movement make. No matter how much you might think you’re changing things, you need to face facts. Sometimes you have no influence whatsoever, and sometimes your influence is not what you think it is. We might look at the gay movement as a good analogy here: the movement was not successful when it was small and immobile, but when the gay community got fed up, they rose up in the millions, and got noticed; now we have five states that have legalized gay marriage. Podcasting has yet to have this movement, and maybe it never will. It’s surprising that podcasting took off in the first place considering how easy it is to find video-based programs all over
The Universe, the Library, and Everything
I spent several hours in the library yesterday, avoiding human contact because I promised I would do so in order to curb any potential of my catching swine flu or some other wicked demon disease launched upon the Earth to wipe out mankind. That wasn’t the only reason I was in the library, though. I’m still working on my research project and have been digging up books I still need to read in order to get my brain in the right mindset to write the 25+ page monstrosity that will be the finished product. The reality is that I think this paper will cross the 40-page mark, since as of this moment, with only the intro and one section (of about six) completed, I have about 8 pages–and those sections will be receiving extensive edits and adjustments over the next few weeks. But this post isn’t entirely about that. Actually, it’s about how awesome libraries can be. One thing I find incredibly useful about UC Santa Cruz’s library (and the UC library system in general) is how many books you have access to and on what subjects: pretty much all of them. Books they don’t have they can purchase, and students (and non-students too) can borrow books from any library in the system, drastically increasing the size of the UC library’s catalogue. And don’t get me started on article databases…because there are too many of them to count that I have access to as a student. Hopefully I will have the same access wherever I go next. I’ve never been a big library guy. I support libraries and think they have a tremendous amount of value in society, particularly for kids who don’t have money to toss around on books, but since I stopped being a book person for a while in my life (and have only come back in the last seven or so years) I haven’t really made good use of libraries until now. Obviously that has changed and I suspect that I will be spending more time in UC Santa Cruz’s library over the next few weeks (my last weeks, actually). Needless to say, I love the library. A lot of the books I’m finding I need for my research project are ones I can’t get for a reasonable price–lots of academic books that run $50 to $100 easily. Many on science fiction and subjects related to the Other, (post)colonialism, imperialism, empire, etc. With that in mind, I thought I’d ask all of you what kind of experiences you have had with your local library? I know that not all libraries can be as well-funded as a university one, but still, they are great places to find books and information. So tell me about a recent library experience you had, or, if you don’t go, say why you’ve never been.
Why I’m Not Going to Talk About RaceFail09 (even though I’m talking about it now)
I know this is a big deal in the blogosphere (or at least it was) and I suspect there are some folks wondering why I haven’t chimed in. I have some valid reasons and some not-so-valid ones. First, I came into the discussion late. It’s impossible to keep up with RaceFail. Even though the arguments seem to have died down or shifted to more obscure locales, there is too much to read to get a good idea what has already happened. For a while I had no idea what RaceFail even was because nobody that I saw had put together a logical time line that put into perspective what exactly had occurred. Second, I’m not interested in being flamed and bashed to death by people who are either understandably passionate about this subject, or illogically consumed by any subject of race. That’s partly why I avoid discussing race on this blog, except where it is relevant to something I am interested in (such as the “Other,” a subject of academic interest for me). That might seem to be contradictory, but so be it. I suppose what I mean is that I’ll discuss the “Other,” but I will generally avoid involving myself in those discussions which purposefully try to exclude other people simply because they’re not part of a certain group. That’s what RaceFail seems to have done, and I think most sides of the argument are at fault. Third, I think the entire discussion that sprang up in which some people said that other people couldn’t write the “Other” properly and yadda yadda is a stupid one. I don’t care which side you are on. Why? Because there is no proper way to write the “Other.” Period. You can argue against this all you want, but nobody technically writes the “Other” properly, because there is no single unique “Other” experience. Even people who are part of groups identified as the “Other” can only write from their perspective, but not from the perspective of all “Others.” A black woman’s experience will be different from a black man’s1; a Chinese family’s experience will be different from a Native American family’s. That’s just reality. This is like saying that I know what it’s like being white because I happen to be white. I know the white experience from my perspective and only that perspective. I am relatively unique in this group of “white people” because I am not part of every different subgroup of white. I do not know what it’s like to be Jewish, or a fundamentalist Christian, or even a white man from Iowa. Whatever universal “white” experiences I may have are not really “white” experiences anyway, because much of what I experience is simply part of being human. So, to reiterate: nobody writes the proper “Other,” because no such thing exists. There may be writers who do particularly poorly by inserting stereotypes and claiming to be socially conscious writers, but mostly nobody gets it right. Having said all this, I think it’s clear that I am saying something about RaceFail, which wasn’t really my intention. I don’t see myself becoming part of the discussion beyond this, though, primarily because I don’t think RaceFail has done much good. It got people talking, but from the little I know, it also got people saying things that probably shouldn’t have been said. Some folks have been alienated (so much so that they don’t feel comfortable in the SF/F genre anymore), and I think that is the most important thing to remember. And that’s pretty much all I’ve got to say. ——————————————- 1. This difference is something not generally taught in school, but history paints a very disturbing picture of gender and its relationship to race. For example, black women were, for a long time, at the lowest rung of society in America. Since black men were technically subhuman, that made black women practically non-human, and thus relegated to the same status as that of animals. They were slaves on an entirely different level, because they could not legally defend themselves against rape and other horrid acts. For more, I suggest reading Evelyn Higginbotham’s essay on race as metalanguage.
E-Book Prices: Calling B.S. on the Publishing Industry
HarperStudio (of HarperCollins) recently had a post about why they price eBooks as high as they do. There has been a big stink in the e-publishing world lately about the price of eBooks, so hearing a publisher try to explain why things are the way they are is interesting and useful…except when it’s a load of B.S. Let’s put things in perspective. HarperStudio is arguing that the same production costs should apply to eBooks because they say so. Not because it makes sense or because it sounds right, but because they say so. Most, if not all, of the books being put into eBook form by major publishers are already being printed in dead-tree form as well (or already have been printed that way some time ago). This intentionally ignores all the money they are saving/making by selling eBooks: no (or lesser) distribution costs, no loss for unsold books, access to a new market, etc. The list really can go on. Essentially, the publisher is saving a lot of money by printing eBooks, and yet those who buy them are still being shafted. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because publishers want to make a quick buck off of a new technology? Or maybe because there’s something else they’re not telling us. It should be noted that eBook enthusiasts aren’t asking that eBooks be priced for pennies on the dollar; far from it. In fact, all eBook readers are asking is for a price tag that makes some sort of sense, and paying dead-tree prices for a book that essentially has none of the following is stupid: No tangibility No sell back potential (i.e. you can’t sell it used) DRMed (usually) *insert other viable reason here* Whether this cost is $6.00 or $7.00, eBook readers are asking for a price tag that makes buying eReaders and eBooks worth it. Right now, what’s really the value in paying for an eReader only to pay practically the same price for an eBook as you would pay for a dead-tree version? Almost none, unless you buy a heck of a lot of books. Saving $2.00, as HarperStudio mentions, means you’d have to buy roughly 200 eBooks in order to recuperate the high cost of the various eReaders. That’s a lot of books, and we can suspect that folks using eReaders are in this for the long haul. We’ve even seen sales go up. So what’s the big deal? And before anyone comments that I just don’t understand how it all works: I understand that there are editors and what not, each with a specific job and each that has to get paid for a service. But I don’t find that as a valid excuse for overcharging for eBooks. That seems like a cop out to me, as if to say, “Well, we paid for the dead-tree version, let’s punish the electronic folks.” What does everyone else think about this? Am I just flat out wrong? Why? Is there more to this that publishers aren’t telling us? Are eBook prices going to go down, or do you think they’ll remain high until the market dies? Leave a comment with your thoughts!
Reader Question: Why won’t you read George R. R. Martin?
I suspect that this question was meant partially in jest, but I see fit to answer it. For the record, I know that this question is directed at GRRM’s fantasy series, and not his other writings, which I have had the privilege to read. So I will direct my answer to the intent of the question. There are a lot of reasons why I have yet to read George R. R. Martin’s fantasy series. Some of them, or perhaps all them, the questioner will probably not like (or already knows about): I have too many books on my review list. I have too many books in my reading list for college courses. I don’t like being pressured into reading books because it ruins the reading experience for me. The work is over-hyped by the people who like it, which also ruins the reading experience for me. Perhaps the first one isn’t a great excuse. After all, I should probably attempt to work in books that aren’t sent to me for review in order to keep things fresh. And, if we’re to knock that off, then we can drop the second one as well, since it would no longer be relevant. That leaves the last two. My biggest problem with reading books recommended to me is that too often it feels like I’m being bludgeoned to death with the entire prospect. This isn’t always so, but a lot of folks with a professed love for a particular writer or series have a tendency to really drive home their desire to get you to read the same work that they’ve fallen head over heels for. This is not directed necessarily at the questioner, but more at the GRRM fanbase in general. I have been told by multiple GRRM fans that I have to read A Game of Thrones. It’s repeated over and over to me by these folks, even when I’ve asked some of them to stop and let it rest (some of them have been kind enough to stop). This creates a lot of problems for me as a reader. I want my reading experience to be enjoyable, and right now I cannot escape the reality that reading A Game of Thrones will be fraught with conflicting messages: the side of me that wants to remain unbiased, and the part of me that believes that A Game of Thrones is the best fantasy novel ever written, even though I haven’t read it. I need to clear my head of all this in order to properly read a game of thrones without bias. The same thing has happened to a lot of other books. I can’t help it, but the more pressure placed on me to read something, the less likely I’m going to read it. Think of it like going to a movie that has received an overwhelming amount of hype and realizing it doesn’t live up. I don’t want that to happen to A Game of Thrones. I want that book to be great when I read it, not because others say so, but because I can actually see it. What about you? Any of you out there have similar issues? Have any of you folded to pressure and had a bad experience (or a good one)? Anywho. If you have a question you’d like me to answer, feel free to send it to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, or leave it as a comment, or send it as a twitter message with @shaunduke at the front of the message. Thanks!
Young Adult Fiction Can’t Win
Is it just me or does it seem like YA fiction is incapable of winning in the lit world? On the one hand there are literature enthusiasts and academics who decry that YA is an unimportant, insignificant, and juvenile form of literature, while on the other there are parents, teachers, religious fanatics, and irresponsible anti-realistic-lit Nazis who throw fits every two seconds if a YA novel so much as talks about a subject that teens are already talking about anyway. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of a support group for YA fiction. I mean, the readers are there, obviously, and they are voracious readers with an unquenchable thirst for YA, but these folks also seem to not have much of a say when it comes to defending YA from the critics. Sure, they can cry and throw a fit all they want, but when it comes down to it, they aren’t really doing much in the way of defending YA from what I see as unfair criticism. Much like science fiction, YA is a serious genre. I don’t understand how we can laugh it off as frivolity one moment, and then have a rectal fit in another when a work decides to talk about sex or drugs. Perhaps this is all a way for us to ignore what YA fiction is really offering. YA is, after all, mean for teenagers, and teenagers really do go through a lot of sh*t. They experience sexual awakening, growth, rejection, confusion, drugs, etc. It all sort of hits them at once. Let’s face it, teenagers know a lot more about sex and drugs today than most of us did when we were that age. Even I can admit that and I’m not so far removed from the new generation of teenagers as others (being only 25 and all). It seems silly to get upset over the content of a book that probably wouldn’t even surprise a teenager anyway. Obviously there’s a lot of YA that is nothing short of fluff–literature that has little to offer in the way of serious discussion about growing up, about life and reality. We can’t keep teenagers in bubble anymore, no matter how hard we try. I’ve always considered high school to be a transitional period into the real world for most kids. There they begin to face some of the harsh realities that make up the world as it really is. But critics and academics are largely avoiding this discussion, it seems. They all want to pass off YA as fluff, even the stuff that happens to be more than fluff–more, shall we say, literary (whatever that means these days). So, perhaps we need a support group for YA, a community of folks willing to give YA the attention it deserves–not necessarily in the sense of trying to sell books or make people see that it is good stuff, but in the sense that we try to point out its importance to teenage readers and literature as a whole. Or is there one already out there? Where’s our YAL(ns)A (Young Adult Literature not-so-Anonymous)? What do you all think about YA? Do you dislike it? Why? Do you hold the same views as those that pass off YA as fluff? Do you love YA? Leave a comment and tell me what you think about all this.