A few weeks ago I sent a writer of a recently published memoir a copy of one of my books as well as a CD and a letter. While I was out of town for a few days, some man left a message on my answering machine. The message consisted of some guy seeing if I was there and waiting a little bit to see if I'd pick up. At first I figured it might have been a telemarketer. This is, after all, my landline.
Then I thought that it might have been this author. Visions of getting my wing-wang serviced by super models on a near daily basis danced in my head. As well as visions of winning all sorts of prizes; Pulitzer, Nobel for literature etc. This is, after all, the whole reason I send stuff off to people like this, What I try to give people like this in return is some intelligent things to say about their work and how it relates to me personally and/or the work that I do.
It's been a couple of days since I've got this message on my machine, and there has been no further word from whomever this party was. Maybe it was just a telemarketer. The day I sent the author my book and CD, I came to the conclusion that doing so wouldn't hurt anything. I've done things like this in the past, and the worst thing that happens is they never reply. A couple of times I've received positive replies, though. These replies never really blossomed into lengthy correspondences, but there you have it-I got some feedback nonetheless.
So I daydream for a little bit, then I calm down and get back to work. Therefore, it really doesn't seem to hurt anything. And the few words of feedback that I do get from people, like Harvey Pekar, I take very seriously, and I think I've made improvements as a result. Harvey said that I'd probably have to self-publish, as publishers wouldn't have any confidence that my stuff would sell, and so far his comments have been right on.
Which brings me to today's topic. If I self-publish and self-distribute my memoirs, I have a lot of artistic freedom as to what I include. I can draw people who have been hurtful to me in some way so that It actually resembles my memories of them, even if I feel compelled to change their names. So what if I only sell fifteen books a year! What's the harm? My worst case scenario about having the brass ring within my reach is to what extent I would have to water down my vitriol to appease some panty-waist lawyer or some such A-hole.
Look, I have financial support and lots of time now. I've got some ways to go on this project, and so far so good. If anyone offers to make me some kind of rock star memoirist, they'd better know that I don't want to give too much up in order to achieve something like that.
Then I thought that it might have been this author. Visions of getting my wing-wang serviced by super models on a near daily basis danced in my head. As well as visions of winning all sorts of prizes; Pulitzer, Nobel for literature etc. This is, after all, the whole reason I send stuff off to people like this, What I try to give people like this in return is some intelligent things to say about their work and how it relates to me personally and/or the work that I do.
It's been a couple of days since I've got this message on my machine, and there has been no further word from whomever this party was. Maybe it was just a telemarketer. The day I sent the author my book and CD, I came to the conclusion that doing so wouldn't hurt anything. I've done things like this in the past, and the worst thing that happens is they never reply. A couple of times I've received positive replies, though. These replies never really blossomed into lengthy correspondences, but there you have it-I got some feedback nonetheless.
So I daydream for a little bit, then I calm down and get back to work. Therefore, it really doesn't seem to hurt anything. And the few words of feedback that I do get from people, like Harvey Pekar, I take very seriously, and I think I've made improvements as a result. Harvey said that I'd probably have to self-publish, as publishers wouldn't have any confidence that my stuff would sell, and so far his comments have been right on.
Which brings me to today's topic. If I self-publish and self-distribute my memoirs, I have a lot of artistic freedom as to what I include. I can draw people who have been hurtful to me in some way so that It actually resembles my memories of them, even if I feel compelled to change their names. So what if I only sell fifteen books a year! What's the harm? My worst case scenario about having the brass ring within my reach is to what extent I would have to water down my vitriol to appease some panty-waist lawyer or some such A-hole.
Look, I have financial support and lots of time now. I've got some ways to go on this project, and so far so good. If anyone offers to make me some kind of rock star memoirist, they'd better know that I don't want to give too much up in order to achieve something like that.
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