Since Trajan’s Arch was published back in 2010, I’ve once
again been on the book tour circuit. It’s
different than it was in the ‘80s or the ‘90s, but it’s to be expected, because
industries, like everywhere else, evolve.
But it’s a radical change, and at the risk of sounding like an
incorrigible snob (I’m probably a snob, but probably not incorrigible),
democracy is not all good.
I know, this is ‘Merica, and questioning democracy is like
questioning Jesus. Let me say up front
that I like both Jesus and democracy, but when a twist in both affections leads
to, say, the Tea Party, I’m still entitled (I hope) to walk it back, to
question, to grouse.
So, my observation that there is a lot of crap being
published—more than I ever recall seeing published—has been met by liberal-leaning friends with the
sound bite, “Welcome to democracy, Michael”.
A better response, by the way, would be, “Some of that crap is yours,
Michael”: obviously, I would disagree with that, but it’s harder to argue
because it might be right.
Democracy and publishing have seldom been connected. My friends are right that the major
publishers are smothering in the tar pits of inertia and caution. I’ve written for the big guys and for smaller
presses, and one thing you’d have to say is that it’s almost impossible to
imagine a major publisher saying, “Let’s take a chance with this manuscript.” That strikes me as much more likely at a
small press, for reasons that I do not fully understand beyond the simple
factor that living on financial edges sometimes makes you more willing to
gamble, sometimes makes you see that profit isn’t always the bottom line.
That being said, I continue to marvel at the writing panels
where I hear people talking about their new “YA paranormal romance about a
high-school war between secret werewolves and secret vampires.” It’s described
in enthusiastic It’s never been done
before tones, when what the writer
is hoping is that It’s never been done
enough. But how do they know? They read stuff.
I can see how the caution and commercialism permeate all
kinds of publishing, and the industry is straitened by a non-reading
culture. No, the flood of small, micro,
and self publishing doesn’t seem to indicate an upturn in reading: many of these writers read only themselves
and occasionally their friends. Reading
only your friends is fine if your friends are, say, Melville and Borges and
Philip K. Dick, but usually most are simply Gus over there with that manuscript
about the werewolf-vampire wars. To me,
the downside to democracy in publishing is not that it’s letting in more
writers, unrecognized writers, experimental writers, or even ego-driven or
talentless writers. It’s that I’m
beginning to think that half the publications out there are being written by
non-readers. It’s like democracy run by
non-voters or religion run by non-believers.
Democracy by voters doesn’t always work, nor certainly religion by
believers, but the opposite is just absurd. I don’t know what it is.