Bob Dylan Should Not Have the Nobel Prize.
Translated into English, the will of Alfred Nobel, founder of the annual prizes that bear his name describes the literature prize as being:
“in the field of literature the most outstanding work in an ideal direction.”
There is some debate as to what exactly “ideal” refers to, with some indications that it has been mistranslated. But no such controversy exists about the first words- In the field of literature.
Bob Dylan, popular as he may be, does not operate in the field of literature. Authors do. Perhaps straight poets, (that is to say, not lyricists) belong there as well. But the best written songs in human history would not, by their quality or even cultural impact indicate a transformation into literature, no more so than the life’s work of a great dancer translates into literature. If that were so, Mikhail Baryshnikov would be entitled to a Nobel Prize in literature. If you want to describe Gary Kasparov’s chess playing as poetry in motion, and couple that with his activism, you could give him one too, I suppose.
It’s true. Within the writing world itself, the definition of what qualifies as “literature” is somewhat fluid. It’s one of the bigger arguments within our field, in fact. But it is our field. That is, those of us who are authors and writers. Singer/Songwriters have their fields, and no matter how much we might insist that our words are, when read properly, music to the ears, we’re never going to be able to crash those gates. Why? Because music is not our field. Nor are we intending to compose music when we write our novels and short stories and such.
I won’t argue the quality of Dylan’s lyrics. Arguing the quality, the impact, the uniqueness of any art form is to me a fool’s errand. What moves me may move millions of others, or it may move only 20 other people on Earth. We can quantify sales, longevity, impact, influence, but in the end we cannot truly quantify quality. My own view on Dylan, or yours for that matter is irrelevant. This is about the encroachment of someone who is, (like it or not Dylan fans) a rock star that is just as commercial as any of the others into an aspect of the arts he has no business occupying. Maybe not by his own choice; he didn’t give himself the award. But so much of Dylan’s position, persona, alleged mysticism and quasi-prophet status has been achieved by his semi-passive riding upon the adulate waves of his fans; adding the Nobel Committee to that ilk only seems to cheapen the prize, not elevate the recipient.
Call Dylan’s lyrics brilliant, if you like. Call them perfect. Call them art, if they speak to you on a deep enough level. Exquisite art. Art on the scale of Da Vinci and Beethoven, even. It’s not literature, and giving him what has been considered for over a century to be the highest honor in literature smacks just a bit of populism to me.
This isn’t elitism on my part. In fact I have read very little material written by Nobel Laureates for Literature over the years. But as obscure as I am, I do feel a degree of solidarity with fellow authors of all stripes, and I get the feeling our toes have been stepped on here.
In the end, it’s nobody’s business but the Swedes, I guess. They have their platform and I have mine, such as it is.
Bob Dylan should not have the Nobel Prize for Literature.
MTS in Paperback.
I wanted to take this chance to let all of my readers and followers know that my latest novel, Murder. Theatre. Solitaire. is now available in paper form, here. (Sans my cool cover. My skills don’t extend that far just yet. But the cover template is actually very nice and matches the mood of the piece quite well.)
So if you are not part of the ebook crowd, do please order a printed copy.
They say ebooks are down over the last year or so, and that paper books are “making a comeback” as far as sales are concerned. This wasn’t the impetus for me venturing into paperback territory, though; I’d been thinking about taking this step with this book for a while now. Ideally the ebooks and the paperbacks would have the same cover, and perhaps one day I will learn how to do that so I can publish both e-copies and paper copies of each of my books each time. But seeing as how this time around I’ve written a mystery, I thought it would be nice to have available for Halloween in physical form.
I’m not as successful so far as some of you have been in both mediums. Indeed, I’m not as far along right now as I’d like to be for myself, either. But the beauty of indie publishing is that one can take one’s time, and get used to certain processes before deciding to proceed with same on a regular basis. Based on this experience, though I will probably remain mostly an e-publisher, I feel more and more comfortable with the paper side of things.
The ebooks will of course remain available. Whichever you buy, please leave a review of it on Amazon. This indie-author and blogger would deeply appreciate that.
Too Much. Too Little. Too Late.
Yes, that is the title of a mellow love song from the late 1970’s. It’s also indicative of my concerns about discussing upcoming works.
I’m in middle drafts for my next novel, and I have one or two trusted people reading it. I’ll probably publish spring of next year. Of course, I want you to read it. I want to tempt you with an overview of the story, so you’ll check it out. Then again, I don’t want to reveal so much of it that you no longer feel the need to read it. I have to strike that balance as an author and indie publisher between building interest and keeping the secrets of the novel safe.
Even if I determine a good balance for that, the when remains an issue. Talk about it too early, too often, and I’m likely to drive people away out of sheer exhaustion. Keep the plot basics to myself until a week before I launch, and I have no hope of creating anticipation.
So, there is a danger of sharing too much or too little, and doing so too late. Or too early. Or being to vague or detailed or…
Plus there is always the deep-seated fear that if one share’s too much about a novel still in progress, somebody will swipe the idea. It might be like being afraid of the harmless dark as a child, but it’s real fear nonetheless.
If you were hoping for an answer to the question that you also probably struggle with if you’re a writer, I’m sorry to disappoint; I don’t have the answer. Only a show of solidarity with those of you who have the same questions. Murder. Theatre. Solitaire as any mystery, has a built in tease of sorts; someone is murdered, read to find out who! If you like mysteries, you already know the draw of that novel and others like it without much difficulty. With Flowers of Dionysus I posted to this blog about the settings and characters leading up to the launch. It does not appear to have worked, based on the sales numbers of that one, despite my social media reach.
Trial and error, is it? Or is there something else to consider. I’d appreciate any thoughts on the matter. What do you think is the balance? When to start sharing specifics? How have you fellow authors gone about doing it?
“Murder. Theatre. Solitaire.” Paperback Edition
Today, the first proof of the paper version of Murder. Theatre. Solitaire. came in the mail.
Right now, I’m an e-publisher. Those are the skills I am starting to become comfortable with. To publish hard copies at the highest level, (that is, with the most authorial control) requires skills that at present I don’t have. So the proof that arrived today does not have the cool cover I designed for the ebook version.
Yes, such things can be converted into paper covers, but no i didn’t have the time to master that for this project. The paper copies are not so much an afterthought, but certainly a secondary approach to getting the novel out there. But with several people expressing an interest in a paper copy, (not all of my supporters have ereaders), and given that I wanted to make another push on the novel for Halloween, I opted to go with a stock cover, provided by CreateSpace.
I know many of you more sophisticated (and better funded) indie publishers out there might see this as a step backwards. A betrayal to my brand, or the lazy way out. But for me, the very essence of writing a book, and working to publish it in any form is to produce a clean, easy to read product so as to get my story out there to entertain people. If I can do that more readily at present by making available respectable copies with a generic (but attractive) cover, that’s what I am going to do.
The day will come, I suspect, when I will knowmore of the machinery of paper publishing. Indeed, studies indicate that paper is catching back up to ebooks in terms of sales, and none of us may have a choice in the matter. But for today, I’ll check out this proof, make sure there is nothing ridiculously off about the printing, and approve it for sale. (Or make the needed corrections, though I don’t foresee many, as I used the same base file as I used for the ebook.)
I’ve gone at my own pace with every other aspects of this “authorprenuer” thing, and don’t see that changing any time soon.
In a week or two, you also can purchase a paper copy of Murder. Theatre. Solitaire. And I hope you do, of course.
Not Telling.
I share my writing ideas less and less these days. Not that I don’t want people to know what I’m writing. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy fleshing out ideas by talking about them out loud, outside of my own brain. (Which can be an odd place, believe me.) It’s that I’ve found a certain relief in keeping concepts to myself for longer periods of time-a relief that leads to greater enjoyment of the writing, and hence to some degree greater productivity.
There’s that somewhat vile but nonetheless appropriate old analogy about cockroaches. You turn on the lights in the room and they scatter and hide; you can’t see them anymore. While I’d strongly prefer that it wasn’t cockroaches, as the idea of a room full of them, in the dark makes me skin crawl. Plus few people want cockroaches around. Still, in this case, ideas, like cockroaches, can skitter away, or be greatly diluted the more light you shine on them/the more people you talk to about them.
In other words, I’ve learned over the last few years that talking about whatever my next project is too early in the process can make it seem less appealing, or make me less confident in pursuing same.
I think on some sub-conscious level artists seek the approval of their ideas by way of thoughts from those they like or trust. The problem is, if we share what our plans are with too many people too early, we get responses to the concept, and not the execution. Such responses therefore are just as likely, if not more likely, to convince us that we’re moving in the wrong direction, when in fact we have access in our imaginations to possibilities that the work will bring to life much later in the process.
Find one or two people whose taste matches yours, whom you trust, and share the possibilities with them. That way if they like it, you get encouragement to pursue it from a more objective source. And if they think it sounds problematic, it’s the thoughts of just one person, which makes it easier to deal with.
That’s what I am doing right now. I’ve written down the board concepts and structure of a future novel, about which I have told thus far, nobody, not even family. I have one or two writer friends I might tell, before I start any writing on it. (Which probably won’t happen for months.) But beyond that, mum is the word, though I really do want to know what people think.
Much like a good story, I’ll just have to wait to find out.
Ty Unglebower 