The Sad Truth About Fiction

“Writers will be more anxious to work

quickly than to perfect details. Short works

will be commoner than long books, wit than

erudition, imagination than depth. There

will be a rude and untutored vigor of

thought with great variety and singular

fecundity. Authors will strive to astonish

more than to please, and to stir passions

rather than to charm taste.”

–Alexis de Tocqueville in Democracy in America, 1825-1840

What happens to “art” in a free market in which the sole appreciated value is capital? On the other hand, what happens to “art” in the patronage system in which only the wealthy can decide which artists to support and which to ignore? Is there a difference in the outcome?

In each case, ironically, art must be evaluated through the lens of money, but in the patronage system, those who supported art were indolent and educated, while in the American system, the rich are ignorant and motivated by the urge to make money out of so-called art.

For artists who did not resemble the patrons or whose work upset the patrons, clearly, they would prefer to take their chances in the free market. But the free market is no longer free in any sense. The doors have shut on emerging artists. Some of the literary giants of the past could not hope to see their works in print today unless they had funds to self-publish. Think of Ulysses, The Sound and the Fury, or The Metamorphosis. These would not have been regarded as money-makers. At the present time, the only “experimental” work that can see New York publishing’s light-of-day is work by established writers who have already brought in plenty of money and are expected to bring in more.

Clearly, the future of “art” in publishing rests in the world of self-publishing and e-publishing. The big houses whine about their slender margins but these are margins they created, just as television churns out hundreds of programs each season, only to jettison the majority of them because they are absolute crap or (sadly) because they are quality and don’t hold a mass audience.

De Tocqueville wrote about the “tyranny of the majority” and that is what we are seeing in the world of art. Movies, books, and television aim low, primarily at the under-30 crowd. In this crowd, the majority grew up impatient with books and bored by teachers who couldn’t put on a good show, a la Sesame Street. Niche audiences receive as much attention as “niche voters,” namely, none.

Yet a new day is dawning, one that will ultimately segregate entertainment “art” from serious art. Don’t mistake me: Serious art should also be entertaining. But it should demand something from its readers: focus, imagination, and intellect. A delight in introspective quiet.

Quiet. An element decidedly missing from our lives nowadays. Attend a movie theater and prepare to cover your ears as the previews of coming attractions blast you from your seat. And those previews contain scene after scene of bombings, shooting, cars tumbling in mid-air, people screaming.

I don’t argue for film and literature to all resemble Eddie Izzard’s version of British drama: “Ahem.” “Yes, Basil?” “Well—“ “I see.” etc.

I celebrate the door that has opened for writers through modern technology. At the same time, it doesn’t escape me that the door opens once more—for money. A fiction writer without funds to self-publish but who needs to draw income from her work had better acquaint herself with the world of fantasy or horror or pornography. With a bit of talent and lots of connections, those can work out to a decent living. And who knows? You might even strike it rich. Writing novels is the 21^st century version of the gold rush. Many come running, few leave loaded.

UPDATE: Today I received the galleys of my novel, Bridge of the Single Hair. They look great. I’m getting excited.