Monday, September 19, 2011

WHAT'S EATING INDIE?


I began this week with a blog from Dan Holloway about the need for bad books. I wholly agree with him that we need a whole lot more brilliant, bright, left of centre, genius books that absolutely don’t conform. I am cheering all the way. I don’t care if the punctuation and grammar are shitty, especially when I know that I can see faults in what I read, but not in what I write. I don’t care if the narrative structure is bizarre. I want to be moved. I want to read good bad books. I want to finish reading and say to everyone, “I read a great book today.” I can survive a deluge of not so good for the sake of knowing one gem will be washed up.

What's going on with indie fiction, then? Why aren't I seeing this sort of spark anymore?

I’m not talking about formulaic genre, here. That’s everywhere just as it is on the print shelves and that is good, it’s FINE; it’s tapping a market just as the big houses do. That sort of best-selling pulp will always be one avenue of income for prolific writers. I’ll be a one man cheer squad for the basic novel. It has all the expected elements – my big blather – it meets reader expectation, so it sells. It is what it is, it conforms, it is not about breaking free or bending rules.

So, why this wash of bleh from those who believe they answer to a higher form of Art? Editors are a big No No here in the ether, so we can’t blame them. [Editors with the skill to nurture individual voices might just be real life angels, imho.]

When I discovered online writing, both ebooks and webfiction, I came with the preconception that this was where failures came to flog their wares. I thought if it wouldn’t sell in the real world, they gave it away online. That’s certainly what I did. I took some manuscripts that hadn’t sold, not even proofed just typed into word docs [direct from hard copy I might add], and made each of them a webpage, uploaded some pdfs and I was done.

Except, I learned that I was wrong. I was as wrong as a big lump of 'completely misguided' in a bucket of 'totally confused'. What I found online was a community of writers who had made the deliberate, abiding, and successful choice to publish themselves online. There were thousands of magic free books, serials, and collections, and there were as many more available for sale.

Just amazing. Gobsmacking. Extraordinary!

‘Indie’ represented a conscious choice and philosophy. I hoped that the outside world, the traditional world, would look at what people were doing in here and say – WOW! We can learn from this.

That isn’t going to happen.

What is happening is a flood of writers from the outside world are bringing in their traditional values and their dreams of traditional adoration. If they cannot get B&M editors to see their light shining from the neat double-spaced hardcopy manuscript on the desk in front of them, they put their work online and call themselves ‘indie’.

What’s the difference?

Many years ago I gave up on Writers’ Groups. I found lovely, lovely, likeminded people who got together to share a common interest and help and encourage each other. Most groups fell apart after six months, but those that succeeded drew new members and the old members gained some kudos. Original members became the elders, the voice of wisdom, the judges, and the critics. Their publishing credits remained at four letters to the editor and two shorts stories with a flower motif published in the Gardeners’ Monthly, but time gave them prestige. They put out a newsletter or zine and added Editor to their list of credentials; they ran competitions among their members and added Prizes to their CV.

Why? So that when they sent their neat double-spaced hardcopy manuscripts to the publishers, they had a publishing history to embellish on their cover letter. A bit of ‘spin’. Then they began running ‘How to’ courses. “How I reached these dizzying heights of publishing glory, by Troy McClure”. [Yes, there’s my regular Troy McClure reference.] ‘Published Author’ after your name does not make you an expert. I could even point you to ‘teachers’ who have no publishing history and no expertise, just spin, spin, and more spin.

I saw this awful machine making and perpetuating a false hierarchy, and I said to myself: You know, if I’m going to pay good money for someone to tell me how they got to where they are, I’ll pay Stephen Donaldson, or Stephen King, or Julian May to tell me how to get to where I want to be. Sadly, authors of that standing do not run three week courses from their local writers’ centre.

So what’s wrong with any of that? Nothing. Go ahead and do it. Enjoy.

But now I see that same Writers’ Group crowd moving into the independent fiction world. Colonists bringing their dreams and their MO and imposing the false hierarchy that ends with a three book deal or bestseller status in the traditional world, as if it is ideal. Self-publishing is only seen as a way to gain the attention of a fictional editor who scans the World Wide Web looking for the next big thing. [Meanwhile they spam every webpage that does not explode with news of their yet-to-break bestseller.]

In the online world there are and were a thousand people with amazing histories who have seen how the traditional pyramids of smoke work. Many of them turn back to the masses and give away information, tips, and free encouragement. It’s free!

But in the end no one can teach you how to do it. They can only offer insights they themselves have gained. They can save you some mistakes – like continually paying for another ‘how to’ course.

Aside: [I restore antique furniture. Every now and then I convince myself my collection is valuable and ‘one day I’ll get my money back’, but it is a delusion that helps me justify the money I spend. Someone told me, kindly, that you do not have to justify the expense of a hobby because the value is in the joy it gives you. True. I love the look and the feel and the smell of old timber. If I was to try to convince an accountant it was an investment in a career, he’d not buy that for very long. He’d expect me to be able to show some sort of significant return on a continual outlay. Just saying.]

If there was a secret you could buy, the way to be successful, everybody would be doing it and everybody would be successful.

So do what YOU do and do it well. Use YOUR voice.

I saw a short story recently and I was delighted. It was a gem, just a little diamond, tiny and sparkling. It was put before the kind souls in a writers’ group for consideration. I wept – Really! Tears! For someone I do not even know.

Why? Because the very well-meaning people in that writers’ group shredded the story. They explained how to form 101 sentences. They suggested some improvements that would gain better marks in a creative writing 101 exercise. They did their very best to encourage the author to write as they themselves had learned to write, 101. They did it from the very best of hearts, and the kindest wishes. I always think of the paving on the road to Hell, though, I’m afraid. I don’t know what happened to the story.

And that, in the end, is what is wrong with half of the independent fiction I’ve seen lately. They are written in the hope of being discovered by the phantom editor, or they are shredded by the well-meaning support network. Anything like an original form of expression has been simplified to the mantra 101. Anyone using sentence structure for more than the transference of thoughts has their grammar and punctuation hammered flat to the mantra 101.

The 101 rules are out there. I laughed yesterday reading ‘The World Is Mine’, by William Blake. “Show, don’t tell, Mr Blake,” I said. “Are you an expository imbecile?” That fool Herman Melville with his seventy-six word sentences, with three semicolons and eleven commas. Joyce! Where do I start with James Joyce? That blitherer Shakespeare, making up words! Can you believe it? They’d never pass 101, none of them, ever.

That is also, then, why I no longer use the word ‘indie’. What is that quaint little nugget? Conceive, believe, and receive, is it? I think I inadvertently caused a shift in reality, superpowerful as I am, by believing that the world of independent fiction was a bit like the Vanity Press of ten years ago only cheaper. I was wrong then, but it seems to me to be changing before my very eyes. The mess I once conceived has begun to take shape, and now they call it ‘indie’.

.

8 comments:

Garth said...

It feels like you've been reading my mind (perhaps you have been)
At every stage of this post my head was nodding like "yes!"
Firstly, you have hit on the hierachical nature of the ego. Those of us who are getting enjoyment out of what we are creating are (not so secretly) thinking "Why isn't the rest of the world enjoying my enjoyment?"

Also - I had never heard the term 'indie fiction' before but... it figures: in order to understand the diversities of all those little bits of odd creativity out there we need to put them in a box... indie/trangressional/primative/blah blah blah.

These two observations come together only if we can take these offerings on their own terms - they are not trying to be anything except a creative representation of the ego behind the (virtual) pen.

Thanks for making me think about it. >ooD

Letitia Coyne said...

Thanks Garth, for taking the time to comment. It is always egos and ids, isn't it. It's also the democratization of art, which isn't a bad thing in itself, but it does mean the lowest common denominator reigns.

I talked last night with an editor who has seen the reviewers and bookbloggers - who used to be the mainstay for indie authors - turning toward support of the traditonal publishing houses so their blog becomes more popular. That and, of course, bloggers and reviewers so often are just readers themselves who criticize anything not in the 101 manual.

Lxx

Garth said...

Ha! As you probably know: real men never consult the manual until they're desparate - and while I don't ever want to be desparate, there is no way I am ever going to follow 101 prescriptions.

And while every aspiring writer wants/needs readers, it is unlikely that the non-prescribed offering that find their way from my subconscious into the ether will ever be widely read - it's not easy on the ego but I am gradually coming to terms with obscurity. :D

Letitia Coyne said...

But I'm stamping my foot; you shouldn't have to come to terms with it. It's not fair - which we know matters squat in the real world, but there is such scope for excellence in the anarchy of the net.

It's sad that the weight of numbers will swing us away from the unusual. A year ago, everywhere I went to read online, people spoke about the freedom from arbitrary restrictions and how redundant the publishing industry standards had become. No one wanted same old, they said.

Now they are setting up the same obstacles here. I suppose I should have learned from history. If there isn't a heirarchy, how can we know we're better than that lot over there?

Garth said...

It's a Gordian Knot ;)

Letitia Coyne said...

And there is a shortage of brilliant Macedonian generals with sharp swords and decisive problem solving techniques.

Such is life.

pixelnyx said...

Flyby comment, this post resonated so much, particularly the items on writer's groups. Thanks for actually articulating the problem with blurring indie in a way which makes me feel less like an idiot for wanting to avoid the label.

Letitia Coyne said...

You're welcome.