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Online Publishing -- The Future of the Novel?

I don't know why I bothered with that that caliber is, I would vigorously
question mark. Of course the internet is contend, worse than having no gatekeepers
the future of the novel. It's the future at all. An idiot like that is very likely
of almost everything. We have to remind to reject good books under the impression
ourselves that the web is not much more that they're bad, and -- even worse -- to
than ten years old, and that the publish bad books under the impression
revolution has only just begun. Think that they're good. And if you publish
of where the automobile was after just shit and tell people it's good, you'll
ten years of existence, or the aeroplane, rapidly devalue the currency. The asinine
or moving pictures. And think of how far rise of the marketers -- i.e. those
they've come since. We have seen, so geniuses who slap fancy covers on dud
far, only a tiny fraction of what the books and hype them obscenely beyond
internet can and will do. But I've their actual worth -- might well deliver
already seen more than enough to conclude short-term profits, but only at the cost
that in my own field of interest, of ensuring long-term catastrophe. The
literature, the writing is on the wall public will buy one unreadable
for the traditional paper book.I don't "masterpiece", or maybe two, but after
say this in a spirit of glee or sustaining a few serious burns they'll
provocation. In fact I would be much stop buying books altogether. And then
happier if it were not the case. I love the culture starts to rot. Publishers
books. I love the way you can read them make less money, and the less money they
anywhere -- on the bus, the plane, over make, the less willing they'll be to
dinner, in bed, racked out on the couch. publish anything remotely risky. Pretty
I love the way you can flick ahead soon they'll be publishing nothing but
through them if you get bored, or flick cookbooks by one-legged ex-Rugby stars,
back to check on stuff you missed. I love with the odd new novel by some
the way new ones smell different from old established dinosaur tossed on as a bit
ones. Yet it isn't hard to see how most of artistic garnish. A literary culture
of these things -- with the exception of run by people without brains might just
the odor thing -- could be replicated conceivably survive. But one run by
electronically, with some kind of people without balls is doomed.Something
I-Pod-like device for downloaded text. like this has already happened in
Perhaps such a device exists already and Australia. That notional class of
I don't yet know about it. In any case, literati which is supposed to police our
those of us brought up on paper books, book culture, weeding out the bad books
those of us with a sentimental attachment and publishing only the good ones --
to them, will not be around forever. having first rid these of any and all
Pretty soon we'll have to yield the floor grammatical howlers -- has died out, if
to a generation of people for whom it's indeed it ever existed at all. No doubt
at least as natural to read things off a this has something to do with the
screen as off a page. To them, the whole thinness of the country's population
print thing, the whole concept of the base, combined with our long tradition of
hard copy, is likely to seem settling for second-best in intellectual
superfluous. One day our grandchildren affairs. In any case, the result is that
will look back on the daily newspaper -- the novel in this country is effectively
that great wasteful slab of pulped flora dead as a form. Yes, novels still get
that turns obsolete a mere day after its published here. But they're like Wile E.
creation -- the way we look back on such Coyote running on a subtracted piece of
quaint historical objects as the ground, treading air and not yet knowing
penny-farthing, or the sheep-gut it. If anything remotely original and
condom.If the internet is not the future exciting ever gets published here again,
of the printed word, and therefore of the it will be entirely by accident. Again I
novel, then my name's not Kirk Kinbote. have to point to the relative merits of
In fact, I'll go one step further: the cyberspace. It's not enough to say that
novelist should want the internet to be the web, in such a climate, is just as
the future of the novel. After all, what good as the traditional publishers. It's
the novelist craves above anything else better, because there's no material of
is control. And publishing your own stuff which it's afraid. It excludes nothing.
on your own site gives you unqualified Which is, I repeat, better than
control over it. There is, first of all, excluding just about everything on
an absolute guarantee of publication. grounds that have nothing to do with
There will be no intermediaries. Nobody quality.For a culture to actually be a
will alter a word of what you have culture, for it to live, publishers need
written. No grinning editor will propose to invest in more than just the
"working with you" on the text. Debates established brand names. They need to
regarding punctuation need not be entered seek out new and different and risky
into. Nobody will insert any redundant stuff as well. They need to publish books
comma, or remove any necessary one. that might fail. They need to publish, to
Apostrophes will not be relocated from say it plainly, a lot of books, so that
where they belong to where they don't. we get the kind of critical mass from
You can control line-length, font, which, if we're lucky, one or two
point-size. Any genuine writer is bound excellent and lasting things will emerge.
to be tantalized by these possibilities. American culture takes a lot of shit,
Of course, there's the burning question but what other culture could sustain a
of how you're going to make money out of young novelist as prodigiously talented
the thing. This is a serious question, but downright perverse as David Foster
and I'll get back to it eventually. But Wallace? Certainly the thousand-page
apart from that gargantuan caveat, web Infinite Jest would have got short
publication looks in many ways like a shrift from any publisher here. Wallace
novelist's paradise.But hang on. Isn't would have got it straight back by return
there an important sense in which the post, in a crate, at his own considerable
rise of web publication would spell expense. Only in a culture as
disaster for the novel? Because a broad-shouldered, as robust, as America's
published novel, in the traditional could a writer like Wallace thrive.
sense, isn't just a novel that's been There's only one other culture from
printed on paper, is it? It's a novel which he might conceivably have emerged:
that's been vetted, that's passed muster. the culture of the web, in which true
The publisher, the gatekeeper, has talent, no matter how weird it is, always
lovingly hand-selected it from a chaotic seems to find some kind of
bale of far lesser manuscripts. Quality audience.Remember when The Beatles, not
control has been exerted. And without long before splitting up, founded Apple
quality control, all we'd have would be Corp., the idealistic publishing
an undifferentiated sludge of material, recording/filmmaking company that would
about 99% of which is bound to be -- so the argument went -- forever
worthless, right? Isn't that all the web eliminate the artist's degrading
is? An unsifted mass of largely valueless obligation to go down on his knees in
information, with nobody in authority to some suit's office (probably yours,
guide us through it?It's a sound sneered Lennon at some unlucky
argument, in principle. But it only works journalist) in order to get his stuff out
in practice if the quality controllers to the public? Apple of course failed to
know what they're doing. And in my own deliver on that dream, because its
country, Australia, there is ample employees were promptly buried under an
evidence to suggest that they don't. avalanche of submissions. But think of
There is ample evidence, in fact, to the web as one giant and unswampable
suggest that they're either asleep at the Apple Corp., capable of publishing an
wheel or brain dead. Publishing in this infinite supply of creative work, without
country is growing more fatuous by the the mediation of those parasitic and
day. A good half of the books published vaguely contemptible middlemen who have
here are autobiographies of cricket until now stood between the artist and
players, or celebrity memoirs that would the public. If the idea of infinity
be uninteresting even if their authors scares you, I can only repeat that it is
could write, or reflections by former far preferable to entrusting our cultural
newsreaders on the difference between future to the personal tastes of some
Generation X and Generation Y, or bureaucrat who doesn't know his arse from
barbecue cookbooks by half-assed TV his elbow, but thinks that he does. The
personalities. (If they actually are question of which books will survive, and
half-assed, having lost an appendage or which ones won't, is far too important to
two in the course of some unnecessary but left to a handful of marketers and
"inspiring" journey to the top of some semi-lettered literati. The public has to
indomitable mountain, then so much the be in on it to some extent.It's probably
better, as long as they've got an arm time for a confession. Don't get me
left to write the memoir.)What matters wrong: this confession does not alter the
about books these days is whose face is truth-value of the foregoing arguments.
on the front cover, not what is written Everything I have said remains
inside. In this sense at least, the web watertight, objectively ship-shape. But
-- that supposedly anarchic no-go zone of here is the confession. I am a novelist
unfiltered information -- is in fact a myself, and for a depressing year or so I
rather more rigorous enforcer of quality have attempted, without raising a single
control than our traditional publishers spark of interest, to sell my masterwork
are. Your web page can look as fancy as to this country's moribund publishers.
you like, but if it doesn't deliver on And I tell you, there is no experience
content, people will hit the back button. more surreal than submitting one's
By some strange law of publishing stuff, again and again, to the burnt-out
physics, people will, under certain remnants of an industry which, although
circumstances, pay for unreadable tripe; nominally concerned with the business of
but under no circumstances will they publishing books, has essentially given
read it for free.As for the highbrow up on the whole notion. It's like
stuff, one of the most celebrated shouting into a void.And so I have
Australian novels of recent times had a indignantly published my book online,
glaring error of grammar in its second where it is freely available to anyone
sentence. I repeat: in its second who wants to read it. Which is to enter
sentence. Is it trivial to mention this? another kind of void -- a bigger but
Or does the fact that no editor picked up more democratic one, which has no prima
this howler reinforce the point that the facie aversion to new material. On the
editor as gatekeeper, as fastidious contrary: it wants you. Or at any rate,
guarantor of quality control, is these it doesn't not want you. It wants stuff.
days a purely mythical figure. If a People want the stuff that's on it. Some
publishing house can't even guarantee of them will come to your page. If it
adherence to simple rules of grammar, its delivers what they want, they will stay.
imprimatur is worthless. For all the help If it doesn't, they will go. Most of them
his editors gave him, this guy's novel will go. Some of them will stay. If
might just as well have been enough of them stay, then maybe your site
self-published on the web.Here's a will amount to something.And that's
pertinent anecdote for you. At a recent about all I have to offer on the topic. I
and excruciating social function, I think I said, back at the start of this
happened to find myself seated next to article, that I would come back to the
a fellow who was, and as far as I know subject of money. I lied, sort of. I
still is, employed by a globally really haven't worked that bit out yet.
reputable publishing house as a senior All I can do is propose, without a great
editor of fiction. Finding him generally deal of conviction, that anything that's
unimpressive, I generously raised the any good will eventually draw some kind
subject of fiction, so as to let him of audience, and that anything that draws
riff freely on a topic he presumably knew an audience will also, eventually, make
something about. I mentioned Catch-22. It some kind of money. That's my working
swiftly emerged that he'd never heard of hypothesis. We'll see how it goes.Kirk
it. He thought I meant The Catcher in the Kinbote, operating from behind at least a
Rye. When I subsequently referred to brace of pseudonyms, was the key creative
Thomas Wolfe he thought I was talking and design force behind home of the
about Tom Wolfe.Having gatekeepers of online novel "A Dancing Bear.




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