Diary of a Mad Editor

Archive for May, 2007

And They Probably Have Bowel Movement Coaches for the Constipated Too

Creativity Coaches — Have you heard of this? I’ll admit I had never heard of such a thing. Then, yesterday I’m reading some lame column in a local arts newspaper and read in the author’s bio that she was “studying under creativity coach, Eric Maisel.” First thing I did was look-up “creativity coaching” on Google. What I found were numerous “creativity coaches.” Some claimed to be modern-day muses others were licensed therapists specializing in “creative types.” Some specialized in a particular kind of artist.

According to aforementioned creativity guru, Eric Maisel defines a creativity coach as

“one person offering soup-to-nuts help to another person who is trying to live a successful creative life. The creative client may have career concerns, creative blocks, psychological issues, relationship issues, or existential and spiritual crises, and may face a gamut of challenges that come from wanting and needing to create. A creativity coach expects all of this and is ready for all of this.

“An effective creativity coach is aware of the big picture: human nature, personality structure, the psychological makeup of creative individuals, the problems inherent in the work creative individuals attempt, the shape of the different intellectual and art marketplaces, and so on. When a client comes in, the coach joins with the new client, as one human being to another and one creative person to another, listens to what the client is saying, and makes observations and suggestions.

“Creative clients may doubt that they have talent, may dislike the creative work they’ve attempted so far, may be confused about what creative projects they ought to be attempting, may be thoroughly down on the world for its lack of interest in their efforts, and so on. All of this the creativity coach expects and is prepared to address.”

It makes my head spin. Is this what we’ve arrived at? Have we become such a hand-wringing, angst-ridden society that even our artists need therapy to help them do their jobs?

A lot of you guys who read this blog are yourselves writers or artists of one stripe or another. Do you really need to be coached to do whatever it is you do? Are you so inept, insecure, and (yes, I’ll say it once more for the peanut gallery) brain-dead fucking retarded that you need some no-talent wannabe hanger-on to stand in as your personal cheerleader? If you do, all I can say is OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!

Sounds like there’s money in creativity coaching though. Maybe I should give it a try: Let’s see . . . artist who can’t paint. Not a painter. Actor who can’t act . . . there’s always reality TV. Writer who can’t write. Become an accountant. What the fuck do I care. Write or don’t write, but stop whining about it like somebody’s bitch little sister. Creativity coaching my ass.

Your Cover Letter Padded Like a King-Sized Mattress Makes Me Yawn

Those of you who’ve been reading Ye Olde Mad Editor these many years, know how much I hate bloated cover letters. I especially hate bloated cover letters when they are fabricated almost entirely out of bullshit. Case in point: One time, not so long ago, I received a submission from a woman I’d never heard of who listed Devil Blossoms as a publication credit. As I am the publisher of Devil Blossoms you’d think I’d remember publishing her. Being the prince of a guy I am, I went through all my back issues and folders of forthcoming material to see if I had ever accepted anything from this woman. I could have been mistaken. Afterall, my memory isn’t as fool-proof as it was twenty years ago. But, no . . . I was correct — I had never published anything by this woman. I realize that writers will sometimes pad their accomplishments to make themselves look more impressive. A few will even resort to an outright lie if they think they can get away with it. But how fucking brain dead retarded do you have to be to falsely claim a magazine as a publishing credit when submitting to that very magazine? You almost have to chuckle at the notion.

But that’s not where this kind of thing stops. Most writers don’t lie so much as they tell the truth in such a way as to create a false impression. For instance, listing award nominations. It always sounds so impressive doesn’t it when one is nominated for the Pushcart Anthology. Truth is, Pushcart nominations get handed out like Halloween candy these days and only a small percentage of those nominations make it into that anthology. Any literary publication in North America can nominate writer for the anthology. And if you are an editor who published your own work in your magazine, you can even nominate yourself — that’s right. Aside from that, since the Anthology doesn’t publish the names of the writers who were nominated, it would be hard to disprove whether or not someone had been nominated or not. Aside from a handful of nominating presses, most publishers don’t announce who they’ve nominated. So just by saying in a cover letter that you were nominated creates the impression that you are a widely regarded writer. The Pushcart is just the easiest example of this. I know of two gentleman who list in their cover letters that they have been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for poetry. It’s probably not a lie. But, get this: you can nominate yourself for a Pulitzer. That’s right, all you have to do is pay the fee and send it along with copies of your book and a bio. In both cases, these writers’ books were published by a vanity outfit and the only way they could have been nominated is if they paid a fee to the vanity publisher for the service or nominated themselves. These “nominations” have zero merit.

Now, I’ve honed my bullshit detectors to a razor fine edge over the years and just for curiousities sake I will often check on a writer’s bona fides when I feel the caliber of work doesn’t measure up to the hype. It’s better all around, if a writer is simply honest in the cover letter. Don’t lie about publication credits or awards. Don’t make mountains out of molehills. Let your work stand and fall on its merits. A really good writer will rise above a low status sooner or later. Bad writers will only get so far by being disingenous. Eventually, they will be revealed for the frauds they are, so you have to ask yourself: Do I want my work to be taken seriously or do I want a reputation built on lies and deception?