Scribbler's Cafe

Down and out at the Sea-Tac Hilton

So, this weekend I'm in Seattle at the Pacific Northwest Writer's Association conference. I'm going to workshops and get to have meetings with agents and editors. I don't think I'm having fun. I'm the only one there under forty (no joke) and everyone is interested in genre writing - like sci-fi, romance, mystery, thrillers. I met with an agent and as soon as I mentioned I had a collection, she told me they don't work with collections and didn't want to hear what the book was about. She then went on to tell me I should try taking writing lessons. WRITING LESSONS! She didn't even look at my work. Later on, I had a meeting with an editor from a small literary press and he was at least interested in my work from our discussion. He also said that no one buys collections, but that he wanted me to mail him a couple of my best stories. I guess that was positive. Sort of. I'm cranky and not inspired. I hate all the business side of writing. Really. It's so desperate and shameless. All the focus in the workshops and lectures is on making your writing marketable. Depth, meaning, artistic passion are all just footnotes. Really, it's better if you have no artistic values as they just get in the way of your marketability. Blah. Yes, there are a lot of crappy books out there, but now I'm more amazed at the fact that there are a lot of good books out there. How did they (and their authors) survive this messy business?

posted by Scribbler @ Saturday, July 17, 2004