. Spinning .

I have been thinking a lot about the last entry, as a writer, seeing the story of this little boy.  Knowing he is only one of hundreds of thousands of people that have been traumatized, their life story changed in a day of wind and rain that wiped out all they had and presenting them with a future that will hold no material signs of their past.  A future that will be completely dependent upon memory.

Trying to write narrative structure based on the turn of the wind, a moment in space and time and seeing it demonstrated viciously clear by Katrina last week. 

But what could I possibly write that could measure up to the drama of reality.  I feel hopeless and helplessly insignificant.

I think one of the points coming out of the Katrina disaster is the way the news is reported, obviously.  It seems that the focus is on the looting, and while that is a part of the tragedy, I’m sure it was just as much a part of the 9/11 New York City scene but downplayed because of the desire and need to play up the patriotism and a big city and entire country coming together to help each other out.  The police and firefighters and everyone on the scene were heroes.  Well, I’m positive that there are heroes in New Orleans, Biloxi, and all the devasted areas as well. 

But this is a different situation than NYC.  For one things, it is people against nature.  And since no one likes to point the finger at God, they are pointing it at government (who may deservedly receive some of the blame but this is an almost inconceivably large area to cover and still inaccessible in many places); there is an extraordinary number of survivors that need help; there is no where close for them to go; and the main problem is getting food to the families who are jam-packed together under miserable conditions waiting for aid. 

We didn’t hear much about looting and gun-waving in the Towers tragedy.  But then the main force was over in a couple hours, and amazingly, even without warning, thousands evacuated before more serious loss of life was incurred.  They also had homes to go back to once they escaped the area.  What was left in the buildings were most likely only the dead.

I only hope that the bad side of this disaster doesn’t prevent us from helping; the disgust at seeing the darker side of human nature become the focus of what is going to be a long term need of cities of people whose lives have been nearly destroyed by tragedy. 

I can’t sleep and one of the reasons is because of reading this weblog by a literary agent and her wonderful sharing of comments on writer submissions that is of the greatest value to any writer.  Why this is even better than a writers group is because it is the opinion of an agent that reads story openings constantly so she sees them all and has a greater wealth of experience to draw from.  It is the pointed comments she makes that we wish we could get back scribbled on our own submissions so we know what we’re doing wrong–or right. 

There are 57 submissions she’s covered in various entries in the past four days, so check them out if you have some time to spend.  I don’t always agree with her but it is an excellent learning tool because the examples are there, so when she claims something is telling instead of showing, it is clearly demonstrated. 

However, while I have noted a bit of not-so-great writing, there were a few very good samples.  And frankly, between this and the tons of reading I’ve been doing lately it seems I am getting pickier and pickier about what good writing is all about.  It takes more to move me.  I realize that I’ve been panning some of the published stories in all the literary journals I’m catching up on, and in the same vein, I’m not so cocky about any of my own stories either.  As a matter of fact, I’ve decided that they’re not very good at all. 

But I’m willing to still spend some (though less) time to learn by writing, though I’m not sure that I’ll ever be of the caliber I would expect as a reader.  I have a feeling that my true calling is not as a writer, but perhaps as an editor or just an appreciator of fine writing.

I know this isn’t going to win me any readers, but I have to be honest about something that came up the other night at the writers meeting and that has been circling around in my head running from lobe to lobe to avoid getting thought about.

I am a snob about being published by a publishing house versus being self-published.

The question was raised by John as to why someone wants to be published, particularly in book format. 

…shoot–someone just walked in.  I’ll come back to this shortly.

I’m back.  The point is, just as it always was, that it is very difficult to get published these days and what seems to make things maybe a bit worse is that more and more people think they’re great writers along with the ease of computer writing and setting up a manuscrapt  (oops, typo here, but it kinda sorta is relevant so I’m leaving it), and on the other end, the very few major publishing houses are great monopolies that have absorbed many of the former mid-sized companies and now they rule the publishing world.  But there are still plenty of small presses that I for one would be thrilled to be picked up by.  That leaves me just short of the self-publishing route.  Now let me say here that I HAVE self-published, literarily self-published, myself and others in the form of magazines.  One, a traditional archery magazine for five years that I actually cut & pasted in the copy and ads and did all the work for short of the computer generated typeface.  I was worshipped as a goddess.  But this was only because there was a strong need for such a periodical at the time and I put my heart and soul into it.  The other, otto, which is a current publication out of our Narratives group and this time, I’ve even done all the computing as well (though the layout is much easier with a computer than with rubber cement and scissors).  The overall feedback from all but a few has been Yeah, so?

I am strongly for the author self-publishing.  If it’s crap, it ain’t gonna play in Cincinnati, so nothing ventured, nothing gained is fine.  But if it’s good, then to me, the goal is to simply see it as a stepping stone, a way around the bad odds of being picked up first by the big boys.  Now, as Josh pointed out at the meeting, is when you take your published book and your sales figures back to market. 

Why does one want to be published by let’s say, Random House or McGraw?  Because it is almost (or it used to be) proof positive that your skill and talent is appreciated and recognized.  Very few if any authors are silly enough to attempt the effort in dreams of fame and fortune.  The minute a publisher signs you on is applause enough, and that, I think, is similar these days to the self-published author counting book sales because the middle man, the publisher, hasn’t already confirmed their work as being saleable. 

Back to my hangups:  I cannot deny that my smile fades a bit when asking a new author the name of his publisher and finding out his book has been self-published.  I admire the work, the effort, the confidence, the dedication, and when I read the book, I’ll possibly admire the author and his talent.  But I would still hope that if the talent and skill are evident, that the book will be published by a conventional publishing house.  And while the moaning and groaning has always been the same about why the little guys don’t get noticed, the truth is that (and I read this in one of the litblogs this morning–sorry for forgetting where to allow credit) agents and publishers are honest-to-god looking for the next big new author.  They WANT to be the ones to discover talent.  They’d drop Danielle like a hot potato if your manuscript was so terrific and your potential for producing more was there.  You represent money to them.  They are only doing this (at least at the upper eschelon of the corporation) to make money.  You, on the other hand, are doing it to be recognized for something you see in yourself as a skill or gift.

No doubt I too shall take the self-publishing route some day when I feel my work has reached a level of literary goodness; I’m not going to wait long enough to achieve greatness since I’ve past my midlife mark a while ago.  But I shall see it as an excellent way of getting my work out there to be read and marketed rather than as an end in itself.