Thoughts on the Racket

Every once in a while I flirt with the idea of pursuing a publisher for my writing. When I started writing horror fiction and got into the flow of things, I kind of went off and ended up writing a 70k-word horror novel. Whether or not it’s any good, I can’t fairly say. There is plenty in it I want to change, including rewriting sections, adding content, and further edits. But as it stands right now, it is a completed novel.

Around the novel, I wrote a number of horror short stories, and even went so far as to submit one to an open call from an indie horror publisher for an anthology. To my surprise, the story was accepted, and ended up closing out the collection. Here it is if you want to buy it. And here it is if you want to read it for free. The editor who selected my story was apparently a huge fan, even going as far as to say my story was her favorite of the bunch. That was nice to hear.

But I also knew that acceptance was the exception, and that the rule was that most things you submit will be ignored or outright rejected. That’s just the way it goes. There are just so many prospective authors out there and a comparatively small number of publishers and opportunities available to all those authors. Well known and well read authors get rejected all the time. As the Austin, TX based horror author Gabino Iglesias has said, even a Bram Stoker Award winning author like him can, and often does, find a lukewarm reception to a follow up title, potentially costing them their contract and putting them right back to square one. He says this, because that’s exactly where he stands right now. One of our best, fishing for an outlet.

It’s a tough racket. First off, you probably have to be good (not always the case, but go ahead and don’t be a shit writer). But even more importantly, you have to get the right people’s attention. And if on the rare chance you get published, you need to bust your ass to keep your name active in people’s minds. In this media-drenched climate, being forgotten takes almost no time at all. I leaned that the hard way with my visual art. A couple days without posting online, and it took weeks to rebuild the little attention I had to begin with.

I love to write, as this newsletter will attest. The thought of having my work in print, and being able to reach an audience—of avid readers—is enticing.

Every writer will have their own obstructions along this path. In my case, self-promotion is not only something I am not great at, it is also something I find a bit sickening. I constantly wrestle with the thought that while I may be a serviceable writer, am I also a writer who should be read? How can I know. Objectively, I really can’t. Sometimes I write something and I know right away that it’s solid, that there is an audience out there for it, like if the stars aligned and it ended up in their hands. My only submitted story found an editor who liked it enough to publish it. But no one read that book. And that’s okay. Sure, it’s a bummer, but then I had no expectations of readership. I just was thrilled to get it published. But still, no one read it. So what did it matter that it came out in the first place?

Much shit has been said about Substack as a format. For one thing, like podcasts, everyone has one (I have a podcast too, because of course I do). They platform people with bad views, dangerous views, such as neo-Nazis. And yeah, that’s problematic. But I also believe in free speech. And not just the freedom to access the speech I like, but the freedom of all ideas to be aired out. Hate speech is a specific thing. And it is a protected thing. So I support Substack’s Constitutional right to publish it. But should they?

That’s a case by case situation, and it warrants careful thought. If you are an absolutist, and you stand by that position, then state that unequivocally right up front. And allow those who are looking for a place to publish their writing the chance to make their own decision on whether or not venues such as Substack is right for them.

I am an adult. And I am mature enough to decide for myself what I do and don’t consume as it relates to culture and media. Each of us have the right to make that choice for ourselves. And yes, it means that ugly thoughts will proliferate. But it remains up to each venue to decide what they are willing to provide a platform for and why. I just ask that they be clear about it, so that we can make the same decision on our end. And that’s is not always the case.

Whenever I get that itch and start snooping around at the various publishers who accept unsolicited and un-agented submissions, it usually doesn’t take long before I get disillusioned. Part of this is that because what I do is not what they are looking for. And a bigger part of it is that they don’t publish the sort or work I want to be associated with. I don’t mean to say it isn’t any good (though that might be true), I’m just saying that I would be a bad fit.

Being adventurous in publishing is ballsy to be sure, but it’s also extremely risky. When you cater to a small cultish niche of the reading public, finding your audience is even harder than it is for trad publishers.

When I write, I feel my voice the strongest with nonfiction. Opinion pieces, rants, essays, and creative nonfiction storytelling are my wheelhouse. I love writing fiction, but I’m not so sure that what I write does anything for anyone other than myself. Again, that’s perfectly okay, but if I’m being realistic, I’m not sure there is a publisher that exists who would put themselves out there for what I do. And I don’t blame them. Mostly I think that I have a lot of room to grow with my fiction. So maybe that remains a future prospect.

That’s why this format is nice for me. I can write whatever I want. I can tell a strange story with a non-linear storyline. I can write poetry, vague and stylized to the point of being almost undecipherable. I can also write semi-autobiographical nonfiction, taking liberties because I enjoy doing so, and because I can. There is no need to obsess over a publisher and what they will and will not approve of. I answer to myself. Of course I still self-censor. As a deeply private person, there is much I keep to myself. And then there is the fact that friends, family, and acquaintances read this newsletter, and I feel a responsibility to them whenever the things I want to say reaches them in what might be a sensitive way.

So instead of trolling through the murky world of independent publishing, twisting myself into knots to appear as someone they are comfortable working with, I think this page continues to serve me and the ways in which I wish to express myself.

With that in mind, if you like what I do, supporting my work through subscribing, either for free or paid, is something for which I am stupidly appreciative. It’s only in the past few months that I have become comfortable asking people to consider paying for this stuff. But I always try to to be clear that it’s not necessary at all. I’ve since added a link to the Buy Me a Coffee site, which is just another way to throw cash my way, and with regards to that whole scene I figured, well, hell, while I’m at it… Trust me, every tiny bit helps more than you might think.

Personally speaking, I never have money. Never. Or at least, never enough to support another writer’s work through a format like this one. So I am the first to understand not having the means to do so. If you can’t, don’t. I don’t either. Because I can’t either. Most of the books I read and listen to nowadays are borrowed through the library. And describing me as grateful for that opportunity is a gross understatement. I grew up without the internet, and thus my access to the art I have since grown to love, art which speaks to me, in all forms, was severely limited to someone I knew finding out about it before me and kindly passing it on. My life has been impossibly enriched as a result.

As it is right now, I probably own around 1,000 physical books, if not more. And that’s pared down considerably after multiple moves and my repeatedly having to carry twenty-plus heavy book boxes up and down stairs every few years. I can’t do that anymore. So these day I rarely buy physical books. If anything, I get e-books (which I don’t love), but which my body loves so much they are renewing their vows as we speak.

Whenever I write posts that revolve around a question to the reader, the near dearth of response tells me that most people in here either don’t read these, are too shy to say anything, or find the commenting aspect of this format to suck. And that sparsity is another reason why I am in no hurry to try and get someone to publish my work. That’s how it’s historically been with my music as well. Any success I’ve enjoyed—and it’s been rather limited to a tiny cultish niche like the kind I referred to above—has been gained organically through the work itself. The fans my music has earned over the decades tend to be true fans, real lovers of the stuff. And man is that gratifying. Because we didn’t force it on anyone. They found it their own way, and it resonated with them on the music’s merit alone. That’s where I feel most comfortable with offering up my creative work.

At 57, I am not going to have a bestseller, or name recognition in music and art. I know that. I’ll keep doing it as long as I enjoy it. I’ll keep doing it as long as I can. Thanks for reading, looking, listening. Art is everything. It’s powerful. And it belongs to us all.