BOOKS & PUBLISHING
Internet SeaSAN FRANCISCO 21 November 2009 |
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For some writers like me, the internet is a sea. It is where we go to catch readers and promote our work. Unlike the natural sea, it is not subject to the curvature of the earth, but instead stretches flat as far as the eye can see. It is deceptively shallow too, but the sun above is always bright in a cloudless sky. My last book is my boat, SS Carl Melcher, and as such, it is a modest effort, a sailboat about eighteen feet in length launched by a good builder, St. Martin's. Some of the major established houses send their most famous writers out in million dollar yachts, big mahogany craft with a lot of brass. But, yacht, sailboat, or even home-built, we're all out here looking for the same thing: readers. Fish, I call them.
The big commercial factory ships (mega-selling authors) take most of the fish. One of them worked somewhere north of me last night. It made a hell of a racket and its blazing lights bothered my eyes such that I had to look away. I heard later that it took in hundreds of thousands of fish. I've heard that the biggest of them bait their hooks with some kind of synthetic stuff, a formula that they've got down to a science. It's a bait that's supposedly irresistible. I once heard an agent say it was like cocaine. Well, more power to them. If I were writing only to get rich, maybe I'd try that. Or maybe I'd put my efforts into real estate speculation or bond trading. But we only have this one life, as far as we know, and I want to spend it writing the kind of stories that I like to read, stories I think are worthy and important, and to hell with formulas and media-hyped fame. I guess I'm either a purist or a fool, or both. Time will tell. Anyway, I bait my hook with little bits of heart and something I call true-goo. And when a fish happens to meander by I usually manage to hook it. But those big factory ships with all that power and those blinding lights... Hell! You just can't compete with that.
I've been slowly filling my locker with fish. Very slowly. And doing it on my own dollar. The money the builder gave me ran out long ago. When I get enough fish maybe the people who funded my boat will outfit me with another. I don't know how long that will take. Another year maybe. But it will happen. I hope.
There are a lot of writers on the Internet Sea floating around on home-built rafts. Some of them are structurally flawed and many put to sea before they were completely and competently constructed. They sail poorly and often sink after a while. Several of them have hailed me, asking for help. A month ago I came close upon one, almost accidentally ramming it. The Captain called his craft the SS POD Something-Or-Other. He wasn't doing very well. His tiller was broken; he'd caught only one fish in two years, and was down to his last cask of water and box of biscuits. He wanted me to throw him a towline but I didn't. Instead I left him a tin of fruit and sailed on.
Once I came upon an abandoned raft. The writer had left a note aboard saying they couldn't take the loneliness and frustration anymore and had decided to end it all. We've all had moments like that. I could never do that, however. It’s just not my nature to give up.
When I first started out on this journey I towed a couple of home-built rafts. But the winds are light out here and they slowed me down to a crawl. I wasn't catching much of anything myself and so I had to cut them loose. I don't feel good about that, but what could I do? The folks that really could help them, the big builders and the yachts and factory ships, they don't even see them. And so most of these rafters never catch anything. They just drift aimlessly, absolutely convinced that one night a miracle's gonna happen and the fish are gonna swarm around their rafts. I know this is what they fantasize about because I was once one of them. But I was lucky and the Captain of a big yacht actually tried to help me. His name was Willie and he threw me a line. He thought I had a good home-built and good bait, and was towing me to where there was supposed to be a builder that would help me, when he hit a hidden reef. He drowned when his yacht went down and I went on alone. That's the way it works out here. But I never gave up and eventually I got my own sea-worthy little boat.
Another big trap out here: the sirens. Several times I’ve passed huge shoals full of them. Fishermen and women lead lonely lives. And when you see these beautiful, voluptuous creatures, waving to you, naked, their skin wet with the sea mist, it’s hard not to go closer. But those that do usually end up on the rocks, their fishing careers ended before they even get started.
So, I continue to sail and fish. And the rafters continue to hail me and we talk. There are lots of rumors around about the big boat builders laying off, and some of them even going out of business. And people are also worried about the shrinking numbers of fish. Some blame the big factory ships, but I don’t. I tend to agree with the others who say that something has been happening to the fish in the schools, or hasn’t. Either way, there does seem to be less and less of them.
Anyway, this is what I do... I sail and I fish. There's something about being out here all alone under that forever-sunny sky, with nothing on the horizon, and the only stimulus being that which swims up from the depths of your mind. It's awfully quiet most of the time and a little lonely, but wonderful. Isn't that strange?
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This was fun, Paul. I like the “Internet as sea” metaphor. And agreed: all of the many writers out here are indeed trolling for fish.
Good thing there are a lotta fish in the sea, I suppose.
Catch and release….
I agree. I really like the ’sea’ metaphor. I’d never thought of it that way, but you’re absolutely right. I’ve spent several years trawling for readers online, with various degrees of success. But now I’m about to head back, armed with phrases like ‘bait’ to help me catch more.
Way to go, David. Bait your hook with your heart and go for it!
Indeed. You tell me where your lucky fishing place is and I’ll tell you mine. Best!
We’re going to need a bigger boat.
(OK, I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t really know what that quote means in this context. But I just really wanted to say it. As boats go, TNB’s a pretty big one).
Simon, thanks for weighing in (anchors aweigh?) Later, Buddy!
I’ve been in a commenting funk for a week or more — I look at postings, look at the comments, and can’t think of anything to say. Blank mind. I hope it passes soon.
So I’ll say something a little off-topic here, to try to get back into it. I’m thinking about those factory ships, and the notion of readers-as-fish, which all seems right on, to me. Straining the metaphor a bit, those fish aren’t just fish, but a revenue stream. (Wow, so MBA-like.)
The off-topic part is that it’s easy to diss the factory ships (and for very good reason) and I do it too, but one time a writer I know (Anthony Doerr) reminded me that it was the revenue stream those factory ships generated that made it possible for the big corporation that owned quite a few of them to give him advances and pay him royalties.
Just something to think about. I don’t think it contradicts anything Paul says, all of which I liked.
Don, it’s all good. Yeah, the mega authors and the political biggies all generate revenue. I must confess to being jealous however. If someone, a MegaWriter, sells ten thousand Times the number of books I do, I just cannot accept that he must be ten thousand times the better writer. I think so much of it comes down to advertising and how enthusiastically the house gets behind the particular writer and his/her book. Let’s face it. Some books are published and some are printed. M.J. Rose did a good piece on that and I agree with her wholeheartedly, having been printed. But even that is good. I still catch the fish. You know, lately I caught a couple crabs (no! not that kind) and that put me off. But, hell, I’m just gonna reach in the cooler here and pop the top on a cold one and see what else happens. Best!