Monday, January 17, 2011

Cynical, right?

Seeing "Jersey Shore's" Snooki with her book deal just makes me so cynical about publishing. Not just a book deal, but a novel that's being ghostwritten by some poor soul. The publishing industry is a dreadful place if Snooki is their hope. What the hell?

I get very cynical in moments like that. What am I even doing? I write, I'll always write, but I don't believe the quality of the writing even matters to most in the industry -- anymore than the quality of movies particularly matters to most studios. They just want what will deliver the bucks, with maybe a tip of the hat to art here and there, so long as it doesn't affect the bottom line.

Publishing relies a lot on readers for the punters of the world -- readers are basically a firewall to protect the publishing house from the tsunami of manuscripts that head their way. Their job is to eliminate that flood. They're publishing's plumbers, standing there up to their waists with a monkey wrench in hand, while somebody upstairs calls down "Would you fix that, already?" There's a chance that something might float on by the readers, but that's not what they're there for; they are there to stem the tide.

That's why I think agents are so vital to the process -- I wager that they let you bypass the plumbers, and turn the writer into a marketable and desirable commodity all by themselves. An agent lets you get in touch with editors, the folks who actually matter in the publishing process, or with the publishers themselves, if the agent is really good.

It's also why connections in the publishing world are so vital -- say your Uncle Harvey treated the dislocated shoulder of Editor X (or Publisher Z), and you tell your Uncle Harvey that you have a manuscript you wanted them to see, and Uncle Harvey brings that up in conversation with Editor X or Publisher Z. Do you think they're going to say "We have to run that by some readers, first?" Nah. They'll say "Really, Harvey? Sure, run that by me, I'll give it a look." Congratulations, you're in.

This is why writing programs from particular places (say, the Iowa Workshop) are so valuable -- they let you build a network. So, Mentor A at the Workshop knows Publishers D, E, and F personally, and Mentor A says "He's a promising writer, has some work you'd just love." and they're more than happy to see it, because they dig Mentor A.

In none of this does the quality of the writing matter -- in fact, I would actually say that the quality of writing is meaningless on some level to the industry, because plenty of books (bestsellers, even) are published that are actually shit writing. All that matters to the industry is the ability to move product, and since quality is a subjective experience, when contrasted with the lucrative, objective quantity of moving books -- that's how bad information drives out the good, how bad writing that sells will crowd out good writing that doesn't.

Of course, like objectivity in journalism, there is the ghost of quality looming over it all, the noble profession of publishing, the desire to see good work and art ennobling the world around it. But it's a business first and foremost; it is not subsidized -- so, what sells is what matters most.

If you're stuck depending on readers to vet your work, you are screwed. The deals that get made don't come by way of the publishing plumbers; they come from upstairs, higher in the food chain. If you have to prove your worth to a publisher through your writing, you are also screwed -- it's like trying to woo somebody who's indifferent to you. You're not going to be able to persuade them to be into you. There's a certain Zen logic to that -- if you have to say "But I'm a good cook, and I'm funny, and I'm nice" -- if you have to say stuff like that, you've already lost the game.

And in publishing, if you have to say "My work is good, please, please read it." You've lost as well. Those writers who get multi-million dollar book deals (and they did exist at least in the past) -- that came about because an agent pimped the writer to some publishing houses, and the houses then competed with one another for the writer. They get into a bidding war with one another. In no way is the quality of the writer or their work a real consideration, here -- rather, it's an irrational, market-driven desire to add a strong potential seller to their lists, for whatever reason. The publishing houses don't say "Wow, we love how that gal uses pluperfect in her fiction." They don't give a fuck about that. They just say "Publisher C is trying to get this gal, as is Publisher D -- we want her, too. Let's get her, by any means necessary!" And a literary star is born, and the writing is meaningless in this process.

Can you move books? That's all that matters. That's the real challenge to a writer -- dodging the plumbers and communicating your ability to move books as artfully as possible.