For Those Upset at the Appalling State of American Literature

A Lone Bird on the Horizon

You are told what is indelible by advertisements.  “Inspirational” books are applauded.  What is meant by inspirational now, is something that leaves a sweet aftertaste.  There are problems overcome, but it is doubtful that the problems are that entrenched.  Nothing new is learned about “human nature.”  In the time of this economic crisis, the gatekeepers have determined that “positivity” will sell.  At least it will sell to Oprah’s Book Club.  And that is a guaranteed best seller.  A Porsche or Ferrari in every garage.  Fake and phony women for arm candy on fat and balding authors.  Unnatural!

Here is an excerpt from an unnamed agent’s blog as to the type of novel he is looking for:  (mind you this excerpt has been altered)

In these tough and downright awful, scary economic times, even I a humble literary agent have a difficult time selling “realism”, so I have decided to go with more of the escapist fare.

• Escapist fare stories that take us out of this miserable world and into another one.  (However I don’t represent science fiction or fantasy)
• Subjects that are happy and upbeat.  Memoirs about coping with addiction, depression, losing a fortune on the stock market, terrorists who wish to destroy America, and other post-apocalyptic disasters (i.e. Cormac McCarthy’s THE ROAD) will be tough sells.
• Stories that are inspirational.  These novels will celebrate life, and inspire people to try harder in their lives and go to work more instead of lying in bed reading romance novels.  I am not looking for sappy stuff, I am really looking for the next (The Kite Runner) or (The Secret Life of Bees) because those were bestsellers and anything like them is sure to be a best seller too!

With an individual like this guarding the gates of American literature, it is a wonder than anything “real” gets published at all.  What is real now is TRAGEDY.  The Ancient Greeks had a notion about TRAGEDY, that it is ennobling of the HUMAN SPIRIT.  That is…it makes you stronger, and better able to cope with what is probably a SHITTY world, or at least in my opinion A ROCK IN THE MIDDLE OF PROBABLY AN INFINITE UNIVERSE full of human beings who for better or worse are human beings, and swine viruses, and nuclear weapons and stuff like that.  This literature is not “Saccharine”…but I prefer a better term…..”narcotic”.  Escapism assumes that this world is a terrible place in need of being “escaped” from.  This is the very basis of Christianity.  I tell you that a baggie of heroin or a crack rock is cheaper than any tithe or escapist book.  If you want to go that route, do it up!  The correct formula is TRAGEDY in the bad times to make you realize that things could be much worse, and COMEDY in the good times (particularly Satire) so that you do not get too big a head, and realize that in fact, things could be much worse!

In the world, there  are plenty of first loves, and romances, and heated passionate affairs between married men and baby sitters, and mischevious dogs but in my humble opinion these situations are boring.  Even if it is a love affair between a virgin and a vampire without penetration.  Have we ever stopped to think that much of the literature which has been forgotten about followed these classic formulas .  The good thing about books that are bound in paper, is that they biodegrade.

I am glad, that I have decided NEVER to write for a market.  I am glad that I write because I love writing, and to avoid killing myself on a daily basis.  My books will probably never sell.  I don’t care.  Every morning when I wake up, I look in the mirror as I am combing my hair and I have to decide that life is worth living.  It is in my humble opinion, worth living today.  As times get tougher, I meet my stride.

My recent query letter:

Dear Agent,

and people like you.  You salesmen.  You marketers.  You lawyers adept at contracts.  I will never take on your services.  I do not care about ever being published by a traditional house.  These traditional houses and the industry you act as a gatekeeper for are on their way out anyway.  That means that you are on your way out.  Every time I enter a big waste of space bookstore, I smell a rotting corpse.  I look at the published titles and see an early grave.

I am happy to take on risk by myself.  Don’t fret, I do not consider myself a professional.  Professionals are those who take their food by whatever it is they do.  I do not know of any professional artists.  If you know of any professional artists please correct me.  You are professional salesmen and women, that is it.  You are a judge of markets, not the artistic integrity of a work of art.  Men like Vincent Van Gogh and John Kennedy O’ Toole prove you wrong on a daily basis.  Both of these gentlemen killed themselves because they were “failures” in life.

I write nearly everyday.  It is fun.  It is much better than killing myself.  I never have thoughts of suicide while I am writing.  I would never act on these thoughts, but they do bubble up from time to time.  I think it is in my genes.  I have been told these are unnatural thoughts.  I tame them with exercise, writing, and sexual intercourse.  (the third of these is a necessary component to staving off depression, just ask any depressed person - their libido plummets and aids in dragging them down further).

In fact, I consider myself much like the seabird in this photograph.  I have flown to the middle of the ocean on a dare.  I dared myself, and I have only one care in the matter.  Just to see if I could do it.  Maybe I would tire and plunge into the waves to be eaten by sharks?  I must keep going.  Flying until I reach land.

Writing is much like a marathon.  Life is much like a marathon.  You can be fat and lazy.  You can trade on pat notions of right and wrong, you can write for a market, you can hope against hope to sell a billion copies of your self help book.  If you write one for fat, intellectually and physically lazy bastards to feel good about themselves, you are sure to sell 125 million copies in America alone.  Get on it.

I view the economic crisis as a profound opportunity to change art in the United States of America.  It will be led by individuals willing to take on risks themselves.  I say, that any crisis which does not produce art remains a crisis.  We are on the cusp of a Golden Age, if we only take up our pens, our paintbrushes, and our guitars.

“A Lone Bird on the Horizon” copyright 2009 by Jeffrey M. Hopkins, All Rights Reserved.  Photograph composed with Leica IIIF, Leica 50mm Elmar F/2.0 lens with Ilford Delta 100 film.

Jeffrey M. Hopkins is the author of Broken Under Interrogation, a novel about the war in Iraq.  And how can we write an escapist novel about that?