Diary of a Mad Editor

There’s no such thing as Santa Claus.

There are no magic wands.

Can’t spin straw into gold.

Despite what the spam in my inbox says, there’s no such thing as an acne vitamin.

Likewise, there are no Leprechauns, unicorns or tooth fairies.

And there’s no such thing as a writing guru.

Well . . . there are “writing gurus”   — just that they can’t really help you beginners become better writers. If you’re a writer, it’s a nice little sideline. The self-help racket is a multi-billion dollar industry. And if you’re a writer, there’s lots of money to be made teaching others how to write. The thing is, one can’t really teach another person how to write — they can only teach a another writer what works and does not work for them. One cannot teach the creative process. They can only teach their creative process. So if you are a beginning writer looking for a mentor, run from anyone calling themselves a writing guru, writing guide, or creativity coach, because a good mentor doesn’t provide answers or claim to have answers. A good mentor is someone who plants a firm boot up your ass so you do the work to find your own answers.

During the NanoWriMo, there was an almost unending stream of solicitations for donations to support that organization’s young writing program. You’d think that funding this program was mission critical as if was the most important achievement in the world.

You know what I just realized? There are literally thousands of these programs out there directed at teen writers. Thousands.

And they all act like the writers of the future won’t become the writers of the future if they don’t start out in one of these programs. What a fucking racket!

If you’re going to be a writing guru scam artist, the aspiring teen writer is really where the money’s at. All you’ve got to be a some random shitbird with a few dubious publication credits to your name. You go buy some rundown farmhouse or cabin at a sheriff’s sale, slap a coat of paint on the barn and call it a youth writing retreat or something. Personally, I think your average teen writer is better off taking a seminar in how to get rid of blackheads than waste a dime on one of these programs. Thing is, I don’t remember there being any of this garbage when I was in high school. When I started writing, it was just me, a notebook, a Smith-Corona manual typewriter and a library card.  Oh, there were creative writing contests here and there that were for teens, but I don’t ever remember all these retreats, workshops and the like. When did this sort of thing become so popular? And Seeing as how, there is more arts funding at the state level for projects centered around teens and less for individual writers of genuine merit, I have to ask:what have these programs really accomplished? Are we really churning-out future Hemingways? Are these programs even turning out more teens who can pass the writing part of their statewide high school assessment tests?

Have you ever watched that show, Castle, about the mystery writer who helps the police solve crimes (Yeah, there’s an original concept)? Well, the other day, my mother, who watches the show, informs be that the show is "based on a real person" because "Richard Castle" just came out with a new book. I told my mother that there’s no way that show is based on the life of a real character and that if there’s a mystery novel out there written by Richard Castle, it’s just a fake publicity stunt to promote the TV show. Since my mom didn’t seem to be buying my explanation, I decided to check it out.

Well, this "Richard Castle" hasn’t written "a bunch of books" as my mom pointed-out. There is one book currently on the the market, which is the same as the fake book the character on the show has written, entitled Heat Wave or something like that. It has the same characters and same plot as the book on the show. Coincidence? I think not. It’s a marketing ploy. Nothing more. Nothing less. And it’s not a new idea. Remember Murder She Wrote? There were books on the market for a while allegedly written by "Jessica Fletcher". ABC (which televises Castle) did the same thing with the Stephen King miniseries, Rose Red. You hire a ghostwriter to pen a novel based on the show under the pseudonym which is the same as a fictional character on that show. It’s a product tie-in with an extra string attached.

Now, I was reading a discussion about this stunt on an Amazon book discussion forum in which a heated argument was going on about whether or not such a marketing stunt was a good thing or not. Most people on the forum thought is was a cute, fun idea. One guy was very angry about it. I tend to agree more with the guy who was angry about it. However, unlike the guy who was angry about it, I’m going to articulate why I don’t like it. Listen, there’s no denying a stunt like this a clever and very effective method or promoting a TV show. I’m not even going to dispute this. These media conglomerates who own most of the big publishing and media outlets wouldn’t do it if it didn’t make them money. I understand that these companies do what they do solely to make lots of money. For them, it’s not about creating art. If, on occasion, they happen to publish something that is art, it’s more by happy accident than by design — because the creative goals of a particular author happened to coincide with the commercial interests of the publisher. More often than not, the publisher and the writer are at cross purposes.

What bothers me is that I know, for most real writers, creating art is a primary concern. We wouldn’t have the many great literary works that have shaped our collective cultural lives if writers didn’t care about creating art. Even if writers care about making money, it’s not usually their primary motivation. So, when you do something so crass as to remove the artistic motivation from the act of writing, you devalue the creative act itself. You undermine it.

Now I’m not saying that Heat Wave is not entertaining — I’m sure if they got a James Patterson, or Stephen Cannell (as has been rumored) to ghostwrite the thing, it’s probably slick enough, and well-paced enough to make for a breezy, entertaining read. But, when you bring a writer into a room, filled with TV producers and other executives, hand them a by-the-numbers plot, with a cookie-cutter character and pay them to write a derivative work and try to pass it off as something original, written by a real person, you are not serving the interests of creative art — you are serving interests of the board room. It’s not cute. It’s disingenuous and very, very cynical.

^* This post brought to you courtesy of aquatell, sellers of quality water softeners.