I was away for a few weeks, and I’m only sorta-back. Know what I discovered? Writers have gone nasty.
My return was marked by endless snark, shots fired across many a bow, and more amazon-is-evil, indies-have-no-talent-or-clue, NY-is-the-devil, and cetera.
Is this the best we can do? Jesus Christ on a Cracker, I hope not.
In general I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. In the past I have, trying to be funny, submitted a yearly list of demands. (I know… I’m adorable.) This year I am going to get resolute for a change. And I’m challenging all my friends who are writers to join me:
SHUT UP AND WRITE IN 2012
Waddaya say, friends? 2011 saw the rise of the direct publishing movement; it saw the death of Borders; it saw Nook-Kindle wars; and it saw the end of some friendships for me. Why? Because it became a daily rant from one writer or another about why publishing free books was either incredibly smart or incredibly stupid, but nobody was supposed to say so. We got passive-aggressive “here is why the opposing opinion is utter crap, but please understand, I don’t mean to say it’s crap.” We got “indies have no right to use the term indie, no offense, but they aren’t real indies, WE are the real indies, and everyone else is an asshole, but we’re going to use the term ‘misguided’ to avoid saying anything we actually think.” We got “I am an editor at X house and therefore know more than you, so here is why NY is not afraid of you at all, little direct publishing sillies, which is why we harp on how unimportant you are every fucking day, hahahaha, why would you think I’m nervous, you insignificant creature?” We got “NY publishing will be gone by 2012 and here are fourteen reasons; I should know, I sold a bajillion copies of the following book you’ve never heard of on Smashwords.”
We got full of ourselves, wrapped up in bullshit, and really off the goddamned track, katz n kittenz.
So my plan for 2012, once I heal from the latest surgery and get my galleys back from the formatter I (reluctantly) hired… is to SHUT THE HELL UP AND WRITE. Take it away, Sir Phillip.
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention’s stay;
Invention, Nature’s child, fled step-dame Study’s blows;
And others’ feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite—
“Fool!” said my Muse to me “look in thy heart, and write!” --Sir Philip Sidney