So many great books have been written in and about Alaska. With a few notable exceptions, most are nonfiction.
It's not that we don't recognize the value of book-length fiction. Seth Kantner's novel Ordinary Wolves was chosen by readers at 49 Writers as the best book to send to candidate Barack Obama to help him get to know Alaska.
And note that I'm not speaking of genre fiction. A number of Alaskans pen regional mysteries. I'm wondering about literary fiction, which I define simply as good, publishable books that don't fit in the usual genres - books find in the general "fiction" sections at libraries and bookstores. (For a more insightful definition of literary fiction, check out this post by agent Nathan Bransford.)
Literary fiction is hard to sell, so maybe it's a combination of our collective practicality coupled with lingering insecurities over being so far removed, internet aside, from the "real" publishing scene. And as Kassia Krozser points out in a recent Booksquare post, most of publishing isn't about the literary stuff anyhow.
Still, I'd love to see another Ordinary Wolves, written by an Alaskan and about Alaska. Heck, I'd love to write it. But right now I have to get back to my genre project.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
ONLINE ALASKA
A few concluding thoughts (with no promise I won't return to the topic) on the medium we're sharing at this very moment - blogs, and more generally, the internet. Fascinating especially to Alaskans, who like others in far-flung corners of the world, stand most to gain - and lose - from the medium that has changed our lives. Thoughts, in no particular order, prompted by the book I've referenced before, Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur:
--Keen refers to blogging as "ego-casting...[a] Darwinian struggle for mind-share." He may be overstating, but whenever power opens to the unempowered, i.e. the formerly isolated, expect, ahem, interesting results.
--Keen calls the web "a smokescreen for truth," promoting superficialities rather than deep thought. As in the Palin candidacy, which was hailed as being good for Alaska but seems only to have made us a parody of ourselves, misinformation abounds.
--"Amateur journalism trivializes and corrupts serious debate," writes Keen. Blogging is many things, but it's not journalism. That doesn't mean it's not worthwhile, only that it should be taken in perspective. Likewise, news is not a conversation, despite what we see on many 24/7 cable "news" shows.
--When you only listen and talk with people who think like you, it's hard to find truth. On blogs, radio talk shows, and specialty-interest "news" shows, narrow views are reinforced. After only 50 years of statehood, Alaska is barely out of adolescence. This is no time to retreat to corners where we're bolstered with self-talk.
--Keen points out that when information is distorted and skewed, people switch off. Alaskans already too prone in that direction, as we revel in our differences, our separateness, and our "unique" mindset.
--Though there's lots of talk about online communities, consider how many participants are anonymous. Is that real community? Contrast with Alaska's native cultures, where community is authentic and meaningful. At first blush, the cyber-notion that content is common property seems like it fits with native notions of sharing. But in fact Alaska's natives are cautiously and judiciously protective of their intellectual property. They recognize that stories are the essence of who they are.
--According to a Stanford University study, one in eight adults is addicted to the internet. Ouch. Between that and Keen's assertion that creative work stalls when there's no monetary reward, we're back to that question of whether the internet is bad for writers.
--Alaskans want to be connected, but we love our privacy, too. Given how data is tracked and stored, not to mention sites that promote voyeurism, Internet privacy is an oxymoron.
Ready to quit reading and shut off your computer? Forego online shopping and make do with the local store? Talk to your dog instead of your online friends? Go back to the village phone where everyone stopped playing pool to listen to what you said to the folks back home?
I didn't think so. What Keen advocates is simple: awareness and prudence. Read blogs by folks who know a thing or two, writers who have a track record. Remember that real community happens not when you associate only with people who think as you do, but when you stretch your notions of truth by considering other points of view. As you read, give yourself time to think, reflect, and engage in genuine dialogue with people who use their real names.
--Keen refers to blogging as "ego-casting...[a] Darwinian struggle for mind-share." He may be overstating, but whenever power opens to the unempowered, i.e. the formerly isolated, expect, ahem, interesting results.
--Keen calls the web "a smokescreen for truth," promoting superficialities rather than deep thought. As in the Palin candidacy, which was hailed as being good for Alaska but seems only to have made us a parody of ourselves, misinformation abounds.
--"Amateur journalism trivializes and corrupts serious debate," writes Keen. Blogging is many things, but it's not journalism. That doesn't mean it's not worthwhile, only that it should be taken in perspective. Likewise, news is not a conversation, despite what we see on many 24/7 cable "news" shows.
--When you only listen and talk with people who think like you, it's hard to find truth. On blogs, radio talk shows, and specialty-interest "news" shows, narrow views are reinforced. After only 50 years of statehood, Alaska is barely out of adolescence. This is no time to retreat to corners where we're bolstered with self-talk.
--Keen points out that when information is distorted and skewed, people switch off. Alaskans already too prone in that direction, as we revel in our differences, our separateness, and our "unique" mindset.
--Though there's lots of talk about online communities, consider how many participants are anonymous. Is that real community? Contrast with Alaska's native cultures, where community is authentic and meaningful. At first blush, the cyber-notion that content is common property seems like it fits with native notions of sharing. But in fact Alaska's natives are cautiously and judiciously protective of their intellectual property. They recognize that stories are the essence of who they are.
--According to a Stanford University study, one in eight adults is addicted to the internet. Ouch. Between that and Keen's assertion that creative work stalls when there's no monetary reward, we're back to that question of whether the internet is bad for writers.
--Alaskans want to be connected, but we love our privacy, too. Given how data is tracked and stored, not to mention sites that promote voyeurism, Internet privacy is an oxymoron.
Ready to quit reading and shut off your computer? Forego online shopping and make do with the local store? Talk to your dog instead of your online friends? Go back to the village phone where everyone stopped playing pool to listen to what you said to the folks back home?
I didn't think so. What Keen advocates is simple: awareness and prudence. Read blogs by folks who know a thing or two, writers who have a track record. Remember that real community happens not when you associate only with people who think as you do, but when you stretch your notions of truth by considering other points of view. As you read, give yourself time to think, reflect, and engage in genuine dialogue with people who use their real names.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
BOOK TRASHING
A couple of weeks ago, I trashed a book. Don't worry - it was my own. It had a long life in draft form, spanning several years, but it had a fatal flaw that I was never able to fix. I knew it and editors knew it and then a respected agent pointed it out and I decided to trash it. For now, anyhow. I'm generally good at throwing things away, but I rarely actually toss a manuscript. Sometimes, years later, you reach an insight that breathes life into the dead.
After pouring yourself into a manuscript over a period of months and years, you lose perspective, which is why we have gatekeepers - editors and agents who size up our writing critically and more or less objectively in terms of what will resonate with the market. Though they love discovering new talent, gatekeepers are particularly tough on amateurs.
These days, writers can circumvent the gatekeepers and opt for self-publishing, online or in hard copy. For some niche projects and folks who lose patience with the slow and sometimes illogical wheels of conventional publishing, these options work best.
Is it simply tradition that keeps us from ditching gatekeepers altogether? Will electronic publishing lead us to full democratization of the publishing process, equalizing all voices? We're hearing a lot about elitism from our own Sarah Palin. Ridding ourselves of editors and agents would banish elitism from publishing.
Recently I wrote a review for Bookforum, a print publication. Had I been reviewing the same book on Amazon or on this blog, I would have drafted and revised once, maybe twice. But because I was being paid for my work, I wrote to a higher standard, revising several times. A fine editor suggested more rounds of changes. A fact-checker asked me to elaborate on one of my statements.
The result: a well-crafted review. Readers are a discerning bunch. Serious readers and writers welcome a certain reach of elitism in publishing, even though it means some manuscripts will never see the light of day. Some books - my own included - need to be trashed.
After pouring yourself into a manuscript over a period of months and years, you lose perspective, which is why we have gatekeepers - editors and agents who size up our writing critically and more or less objectively in terms of what will resonate with the market. Though they love discovering new talent, gatekeepers are particularly tough on amateurs.
These days, writers can circumvent the gatekeepers and opt for self-publishing, online or in hard copy. For some niche projects and folks who lose patience with the slow and sometimes illogical wheels of conventional publishing, these options work best.
Is it simply tradition that keeps us from ditching gatekeepers altogether? Will electronic publishing lead us to full democratization of the publishing process, equalizing all voices? We're hearing a lot about elitism from our own Sarah Palin. Ridding ourselves of editors and agents would banish elitism from publishing.
Recently I wrote a review for Bookforum, a print publication. Had I been reviewing the same book on Amazon or on this blog, I would have drafted and revised once, maybe twice. But because I was being paid for my work, I wrote to a higher standard, revising several times. A fine editor suggested more rounds of changes. A fact-checker asked me to elaborate on one of my statements.
The result: a well-crafted review. Readers are a discerning bunch. Serious readers and writers welcome a certain reach of elitism in publishing, even though it means some manuscripts will never see the light of day. Some books - my own included - need to be trashed.
Monday, October 6, 2008
IS THE INTERNET BAD FOR WRITERS?
In a recent LA Times blog post, Carolyn Kennedy quotes two writers who say they physically remove themselves from internet temptations in order to get down to the serious, concentrated effort required to write their novels.
One of my theories about Alaskan authors is that we are, in general, folks who are happy being several degrees removed from the mainstream. We enjoy a certain degree of isolation. One downside was not feeling connected with the literary mainstream and, to a certain extent, with our audience. Another was geographic distance that made book promotion difficult, especially for children's writers who depend on school visits to get the word out. My writer friend Claire Rudolf Murphy left Alaska several years ago partly for these reasons, and she is still much missed.
I've noted the downsides of Alaskan isolation in the past tense. Though the internet hasn't erased them, it has definitely blunted their effects.
The internet is just one of hundreds of potential distractions for writers to drift away from the hard work of developing characters or unsticking themselves from the tough middle of a novel. At the fingertips that should be busy penning a saleable book is one of our powerful distraction.
Perhaps more important is the effect of the internet on language and thought. Collectively, our minds are shifting to texted sound bites. In twenty years, who will have the patience to read - or write - a complete sentence, let alone novel? Since the advent of television, we've had doomsday predictions about the slow slide toward illiteracy. In many ways, the writer's best research friend may also be her worst enemy.
One of my theories about Alaskan authors is that we are, in general, folks who are happy being several degrees removed from the mainstream. We enjoy a certain degree of isolation. One downside was not feeling connected with the literary mainstream and, to a certain extent, with our audience. Another was geographic distance that made book promotion difficult, especially for children's writers who depend on school visits to get the word out. My writer friend Claire Rudolf Murphy left Alaska several years ago partly for these reasons, and she is still much missed.
I've noted the downsides of Alaskan isolation in the past tense. Though the internet hasn't erased them, it has definitely blunted their effects.
The internet is just one of hundreds of potential distractions for writers to drift away from the hard work of developing characters or unsticking themselves from the tough middle of a novel. At the fingertips that should be busy penning a saleable book is one of our powerful distraction.
Perhaps more important is the effect of the internet on language and thought. Collectively, our minds are shifting to texted sound bites. In twenty years, who will have the patience to read - or write - a complete sentence, let alone novel? Since the advent of television, we've had doomsday predictions about the slow slide toward illiteracy. In many ways, the writer's best research friend may also be her worst enemy.
Friday, October 3, 2008
ALASKAN AUTHORS WEEKLY ROUND-UP
What do book bloggers do all day? Former Alaskan (but still with Alaskan connections) book blogger and reviewer Colleen Mondor posts an enlightening explanation at Chasing Ray . Don't get any ideas - my day is not at all like hers.
When I posted yesterday on style vs. substance, I pointed to Sarah Palin's convoluted response concerning Supreme Court decisions (other than Roe v. Wade) with which she disagreed. While you're at Chasing Ray, check out Colleen's post on how Sarah missed the obvious as she stumbled over herself to not answer: the recent Supreme Court decision concerned the Exxon Valdez oil spill.
In June, Sarah made a rather eloquent official response deriding the court's Exxon Valdez decision, yet now she can't even recall she disagreed with it. More evidence that, sadly, the Alaskan leader most of us used to sort of like is just the propped-up, say-whatever-they-tell-me-to gal we saw last night. And don't even get me started on how she can't name one single publication she actually read to enlighten herself while all you rich kids were out there seeing the world.
I do appreciate that Sarah occasionally makes us think. As part of her non-response to the question of what she read, she also said that "Alaska is like a microcosm of America." A longtime Alaskan told me after last night's debate that Alaska is a northern version of the American South. I've never thought of us in either way, but I'm interested in what the rest of you think.
Finally, don't miss Andromeda Romano-Lax's interview with the author who opted out of writing Palin's biography.
When I posted yesterday on style vs. substance, I pointed to Sarah Palin's convoluted response concerning Supreme Court decisions (other than Roe v. Wade) with which she disagreed. While you're at Chasing Ray, check out Colleen's post on how Sarah missed the obvious as she stumbled over herself to not answer: the recent Supreme Court decision concerned the Exxon Valdez oil spill.
In June, Sarah made a rather eloquent official response deriding the court's Exxon Valdez decision, yet now she can't even recall she disagreed with it. More evidence that, sadly, the Alaskan leader most of us used to sort of like is just the propped-up, say-whatever-they-tell-me-to gal we saw last night. And don't even get me started on how she can't name one single publication she actually read to enlighten herself while all you rich kids were out there seeing the world.
I do appreciate that Sarah occasionally makes us think. As part of her non-response to the question of what she read, she also said that "Alaska is like a microcosm of America." A longtime Alaskan told me after last night's debate that Alaska is a northern version of the American South. I've never thought of us in either way, but I'm interested in what the rest of you think.
Finally, don't miss Andromeda Romano-Lax's interview with the author who opted out of writing Palin's biography.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
WHY ELOQUENCE MATTERS
Tonight millions of viewers will watch the highly anticipated debate between Sarah Palin and Joe Biden, and we'll explore another facet of the cult of the amateur - whether eloquence matters.
Sarah says we need an American in the White House who represents "Joe Six-Pack." But can't a vice president represent Joe Six-Pack and also speak in complete, coherent sentences? Take a look at "Sarah's Grammar," posted by my fellow blogger Andromeda Romano-Lax. Then consider Sarah's response when asked by Katie Couric whether she disagreed with Supreme Court decisions other than Roe v. Wade:
"I believe that individual states can best handle what the people within the different constituencies in the 50 states would like to see their will ushered in in an issue like that...I would think of any, again, that could be best dealt with on a more local level, maybe I would take issue with."
This isn't a random sentence plucked out of context to make her look bad. Her entire response had the same woeful construction. Joe Biden had it easy because he had an actual answer to the question: he disagreed with the Supreme Court's decision on the Violence Against Women Act.
It's not just the pressure of the national stage that reduces Palin to gibberish. Consider her response, reported in today's ADN, when asked during a gubernatorial debate to explain how she would pay for new health programs:
"Proper role of government is providing the tools that those in the private sector aren't able to gather themselves, and critical health care will be a priority. I will cover that as your governor, I will make sure that we are fulfilling our constitutional, mandated provisions there, that are laid out for us. Again, education, basic solid infrastructure, public safety - in public safety is health care, so it's a matter of priorities."
Confused? Me too. Her thoughts aren't clear, complete, or coherent. They're a far cry from eloquent. Any English teacher can tell you why. When people don't know what they're talking about, they speak and write in circles. To cure this kind of doublespeak, you have to go back to the drawing board, think through your ideas, and make sure you have something to say.
Tonight's debate will be style versus substance. Sarah's style is limited to poise, looks, confidence, and sarcasm. I suspect Sarah would say eloquence is for elitists.
The public will have to decide if they want leaders who actually know what they're saying. The best way to tell if they do will be to examine how they say it.
Sarah says we need an American in the White House who represents "Joe Six-Pack." But can't a vice president represent Joe Six-Pack and also speak in complete, coherent sentences? Take a look at "Sarah's Grammar," posted by my fellow blogger Andromeda Romano-Lax. Then consider Sarah's response when asked by Katie Couric whether she disagreed with Supreme Court decisions other than Roe v. Wade:
"I believe that individual states can best handle what the people within the different constituencies in the 50 states would like to see their will ushered in in an issue like that...I would think of any, again, that could be best dealt with on a more local level, maybe I would take issue with."
This isn't a random sentence plucked out of context to make her look bad. Her entire response had the same woeful construction. Joe Biden had it easy because he had an actual answer to the question: he disagreed with the Supreme Court's decision on the Violence Against Women Act.
It's not just the pressure of the national stage that reduces Palin to gibberish. Consider her response, reported in today's ADN, when asked during a gubernatorial debate to explain how she would pay for new health programs:
"Proper role of government is providing the tools that those in the private sector aren't able to gather themselves, and critical health care will be a priority. I will cover that as your governor, I will make sure that we are fulfilling our constitutional, mandated provisions there, that are laid out for us. Again, education, basic solid infrastructure, public safety - in public safety is health care, so it's a matter of priorities."
Confused? Me too. Her thoughts aren't clear, complete, or coherent. They're a far cry from eloquent. Any English teacher can tell you why. When people don't know what they're talking about, they speak and write in circles. To cure this kind of doublespeak, you have to go back to the drawing board, think through your ideas, and make sure you have something to say.
Tonight's debate will be style versus substance. Sarah's style is limited to poise, looks, confidence, and sarcasm. I suspect Sarah would say eloquence is for elitists.
The public will have to decide if they want leaders who actually know what they're saying. The best way to tell if they do will be to examine how they say it.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
CULT OF THE AMATEUR
As I mentioned last week, I've been reading Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur: How Today's Internet is Killing Our Culture. Keen proposes that blogs are part of the problem - a big problem - so perhaps a blog is an odd forum for discussing his observations. But there's a lot to ponder in what he says, especially for Alaska.
The most obvious connection - with apologies to those of you who don't want to hear another word about Sarah Palin - is McCain's selection of an amateur for his running mate. It's not the first, it won't be the last, and yes, some make a case for Obama being, if not an amateur, not exactly an expert either.
This isn't the Alaskan spirit of doing the best you can with what you've got because it's all you've got. What's unfolding in the Palin candidacy is the notion that amateur status isn't something for which you must apologize, compensate, or explain. With a big boost from the internet, Keen proffers, we've thrust ourselves into a frightening extension of populism, the celebration of the amateur.
That's why some scoff at qualifications and education and judgment and say they wish Sarah Palin could be President because she's just like them. That's why her Truth Squad has the audacity to conduct daily bashings of "partisan politics" and "the media elite" as if they're some sort of plague from which we must be quarantined. It's why, if we're not paying attention, we could get confused and believe something is Truth just because a Squad says it's so.
The cult of the amateur calls for a ditching of the experts, those with the facts. Get your news from the man on the street, the blogger with all the answers, the smart guys that call in to radio talk shows.
Here's what I like about Alaska. It stretches you beyond your perceived limits, and it also puts you in your place. But in the cult of the amateur, you're neither stretched nor corrected. You can blather on and think it means something. And maybe it does, if enough people believe it.
Our current economic crisis is another proving ground for the strength of the cult. Will Congress listen to economists or amateurs? So far, the amateurs have prevailed. In a climate of distrust and a cacophony of voices, the question is how far they can go, and what damage will be done along the way.
There's more to be said about what the cult of the amateur means for both Alaskans and authors. We'll use this forum - the forum of amateurs - to explore those ideas later this week.
The most obvious connection - with apologies to those of you who don't want to hear another word about Sarah Palin - is McCain's selection of an amateur for his running mate. It's not the first, it won't be the last, and yes, some make a case for Obama being, if not an amateur, not exactly an expert either.
This isn't the Alaskan spirit of doing the best you can with what you've got because it's all you've got. What's unfolding in the Palin candidacy is the notion that amateur status isn't something for which you must apologize, compensate, or explain. With a big boost from the internet, Keen proffers, we've thrust ourselves into a frightening extension of populism, the celebration of the amateur.
That's why some scoff at qualifications and education and judgment and say they wish Sarah Palin could be President because she's just like them. That's why her Truth Squad has the audacity to conduct daily bashings of "partisan politics" and "the media elite" as if they're some sort of plague from which we must be quarantined. It's why, if we're not paying attention, we could get confused and believe something is Truth just because a Squad says it's so.
The cult of the amateur calls for a ditching of the experts, those with the facts. Get your news from the man on the street, the blogger with all the answers, the smart guys that call in to radio talk shows.
Here's what I like about Alaska. It stretches you beyond your perceived limits, and it also puts you in your place. But in the cult of the amateur, you're neither stretched nor corrected. You can blather on and think it means something. And maybe it does, if enough people believe it.
Our current economic crisis is another proving ground for the strength of the cult. Will Congress listen to economists or amateurs? So far, the amateurs have prevailed. In a climate of distrust and a cacophony of voices, the question is how far they can go, and what damage will be done along the way.
There's more to be said about what the cult of the amateur means for both Alaskans and authors. We'll use this forum - the forum of amateurs - to explore those ideas later this week.
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