Name Recognition

I used to belong to a local writer’s group. Frustrated at my inability to figure out how to get published (I had written three novels and couldn’t get the attention of any publishers in this crowded market) I dutifully spent a Saturday a month with a group of strangers, trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

One of the benefits of this group was their ability to pool the membership fees and bring in experts. We had people from the publishing industry come and tell us about the realities of trying to get noticed in an over-crowded room. And esoteric knowledge sometimes came our way.

It was here that I learned from industry professionals that some best-selling authors no longer write their own books. I was floored. I write because I have to write. It isn’t something I learned and it’s not in any sense optional. The ideas come, unbidden, as I walk down the street. The turns of phrase. The slashing wit.

Some Big Names (and I know the dangers of libel) bring their publishers a fortune by name recognition alone. They don’t have the time to write all those books, so they come up with the ideas and publishers hire ghost writers to do the dirty work. Imitation, they say, is the highest form of flattery.

My writing partner Fantasia said, “I couldn’t do either one—let someone write my stories or write pretending to be someone else.” Yes, she has integrity. But getting recognized may require deception.

Back in the day before the internet changed writing forever, some legitimate authors had to make their living as ghost writers. They masked their genius behind the name of someone with more public recognition. Giving credit where none was due.

Of course, in a world where politicians don’t write their own speeches, and news anchors read somebody else’s copy, writers are always behind the screen. Most of us don’t want to be famous, but we would like to be paid a little for our work.

I don’t have the time or the money to attend my writer’s group anymore. I let my membership lapse. I still spend time every day scribbling feverishly in the pre-dawn hours before heading to work. And I know that success only means earning money for somebody else.

Comments

Dusty

My, this thing is dusty. My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic. No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third. With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give. Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out. I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again. I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut? My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago. Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction. Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up. I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best. When you’ve been writing for half a century, you l

Too Much Writing?

Has this ever happened to you? Have you written a story that you’ve completely forgot? Not only completely forgotten, but made unfindable? I play games with my stories and sometimes the joke’s on me. Okay, I suffer from graphomania. I write constantly. I do try to keep organized—I use a spreadsheet that has all my submissions on it. It has rejection/acceptance dates (mostly rejection). Lots of information. I decided to list on it every story, whether finished or in process. There are far too many (mostly in process). When I finish a story I often submit it. If I get burned, I’m shy about resubmitting. I often rewrite at this stage. Then, when I feel brave enough, I try again. The spreadsheet is color-coded. There, in the color that indicates finished and ready to submit is a story cryptically titled “The Password.” I don’t remember this story. I can’t recall what it was about or why I thought it was ready to publish. Looking through my electronic files,

Gothica

The other day I asked a friend to define “gothic.” Heavy, dark, supernatural—these were a few of the words suggested. When autumn comes my thoughts turn gothic, and I’m always looking for good gothic things to read. I have blogged in the past about how reading literature that isn’t great is good. I’m serious about that. You can learn a lot by reading poor writing. Some gothic literature is more the former than the latter. Like Dark Shadows novels. Dark Shadows was running on daytime television when I was a child. As a teen I began to read the novelizations, by Marilyn Ross, whenever I could find them. Belles lettres they’re not. Gothic, most decidedly so. That’s why I keep coming back to them. They aren’t scary. In fact, they’re formulaic and predictable. But so, so gothic. Spooky mansions, the Maine woods, forlorn vampire, faded wealth. Even, yes, dark shadows. The stories create a mood I find difficult to locate elsewhere. Inspired by the most r

K. Marvin Bruce

Search This Blog