Month: June 2010

Tuckerization

Wikipedia defines it as “the act of using a person’s name in an original story as an in-joke.”

Tuckerization is one of the little perks of being an established writer. You get to attach your friends’ names to your bit characters. While I suspect it has a long, long history, the modern use of Tuckerization takes its name from science fiction editor Wilson Tucker who made a practice of it.

The most recent twist for authors is auctioning off to third parties the privilege of submitting the names to be Tuckerized.

I bring this up because Michael Swanwick (winner of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards) is offering a version of Tuckerization as part of his fund-raising gig for the Clarion West Writers Workshop Write-a-thon. For $10 sponsorships, he will write you your own short-short and post it online at his blog and on the Clarion West website.

Visit the Write-a-thon site to read excerpts of fiction from the 74 participating writers (including Swanwick, Kij Johnson, Kelley Eskridge, Cat Rambo, Eileen Gunn, Vonda McIntyre, Nisi Shawl — and me. Use the Pay Pal button on any of our pages to make a donation to support the Clarion West workshop program. We thank you!

The Truly Grateful Ms. Anderson

I was out in the yard gardening but now I’m sitting at my desk crying because someone I never met, but who inspired me profoundly, has died. Seattle Times humor columnist Steve Johnston died of throat cancer, complicated by MS.

I was out in the yard gardening but now I’m sitting at my desk crying because someone I never met, but who inspired me, has died.

Seattle Times humor columnist Steve Johnston died of throat cancer, complicated by MS. The farewell he left, which appeared in the Seattle Times May 29, concluded with typical mischief:

All in all, it has been a good life. I’ve kept my sense of humor, I managed to keep my wife after 30 years, and my children finally moved out of the house. They still live nearby, though, and spend time with me.

When I moved to Seattle in 1985, I started reading Steve’s weekly columns in the Sunday magazine about his mishaps with his house, his pets, his kids, and his long-suffering wife — referred to in the columns as “The Truly Unpleasant Mrs. Johnson.” (It turns out she refused to allow him to immortalize her as “Saint Nancy). At one point, when a reader bent on epitomizing humorless feminism wrote a letter to the editor to complain about Johnston’s nickname for his wife, I fired off a letter in his defense — proving, I’m afraid, that you can’t explain humor.

In my many years as a news reporter, magazine feature writer, and arts reviewer, I’d always wanted to be a humor columnist. But openings like that are few and the competition is fierce.

But I kept dreaming. In 2006, when I left Apple, I took the Erma Bombeck writing workshop in Ohio. You can just image the wit and the energy of a gathering of 200 aspiring humor writers. I’d get into the elevator to go up to my room at night and the conversation would be so hilarious that someone would push the button and we’d go back down to the lobby where we’d sit around and keep telling stories.

It was just a year ago that I heard about an opening for a humor writer at a membership newsletter. The Home Owners Club was looking for a replacement for their columnist — who, it turned out, had been Steve Johnston! I applied, and was thrilled to be chosen for the contract. I was delighted when my first assignment was not to be funny but to write an appreciation of my predecessor. This gave me the opportunity to read through dozens of Steve’s columns for the Seattle Times and the Home Owners Club. (My favorites are the ones about the coupon clipping, appliance repair, and the refrigerator door magnets.)

Steve’s writing inspires me because it’s funny rather than clever, wry rather than snarky, and timeless rather than topical. It’s the sort of writing that lasts a lot longer than the newspaper medium allows. Fortunately, we can still read many of Steve’s gems in Tales of the the Truly Unpleasant, a new collection available from Amazon, iUniverse, and Barnes & Noble.

Deepest sympathies to the Johnston family, and Steve’s many friends and colleagues, from the Truly Grateful Ms. Anderson.

The Clarion West Write-a-thon: You’re invited

The Clarion West Write-a-thon combines a fundraiser for the workshop (keeping tuition affordable for aspiring writers) with an opportunity for Clarion West graduates and other fiction writers to focus on their own writing or publishing goals during the workshop period.

If you read contemporary science fiction, chances are you’ve enjoyed the work of some of the graduates of the Clarion West Writers Workshop — writers like Kij Johnson, Cat Rambo, Mary Rosenblum, Nisi Shawl, and David Levine. You may recognize some of these names as nominees (and winners) of Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards.

Each summer, 18 students from across the country (and around the world) come to Seattle to spend 6 weeks at Clarion West, studying with leading writers and editors in the field of speculative fiction.

It’s an exhilarating experience. For many students, Clarion West is the catalyst that transforms them from promising writers into polished professionals — people who go on to present extraordinary works of imagination to the world.

The Clarion West Write-a-thon combines a fundraiser for the workshop (keeping tuition affordable for aspiring writers) with an opportunity for Clarion West graduates and other fiction writers to focus on their own writing or publishing goals during the workshop period.

If you’re a writer, you can sign up to write (by June 19) and then invite your friends to encourage you via a donation to Clarion West.

If you’re a reader of speculative fiction, you can find out more about participating writers and support one or more of us during the Write-a-thon event (June 20 – July 30).

As a new member of the Clarion West board — and as a 2010 Write-a-thon participant — I invite you to join us this summer for the Write-a-thon and for the Clarion West Summer Reading Series at the University Bookstore. The readings feature this year’s instructors, each presenting recent works or works-in-progress and answering audience questions about writing, teaching, editing, and more.

Publishing and the “D” word

Publishing isn’t dead. It just looks different. The way it has looked different every few decades (or, perhaps, every century) since Grak & Thog published the first stone tablet and underpaid the content producer. Ink-stained wretches whining over their absinthe never go out of style.

I think I’m at risk of having my credentials as a blogger-about-writing revoked if I don’t address the question “Is Publishing Dead?”

Everywhere I go on the web, there seem to be armies of literary zombies staggering around groaning “We’re dead. We’re dead.” Among the crowd is Garrison Keillor who in a recent New York Times op-ed piece summed up the future of publishing as “18 million authors in America, each with an average of 14 readers, eight of whom are blood relatives. Average annual earnings: $1.75.”

On the other side of the argument are the literary vampires, who seem to have no trouble finding plenty of fresh blood on the writing scene. (Perhaps this explains why so many best sellers these days are about…vampires.)

In an effort to stave off attacks from either faction, I’ll make my point quickly:

Publishing isn’t dead. It just looks different. The way it has looked different every few decades (or, perhaps, every century) since Grak & Thog published the first stone tablet and underpaid the content producer. Ink-stained wretches whining over their absinthe never go out of style. (You notice how absinthe has recently made a rebound? Now is the time to be on the lookout for collectible quill pens and inkwells. You heard it here.)

For those of you with a bit of reading time, a few observations:

• Books. Easy publishing has resulted not only in a proliferation of really bad books but, sadly, a proliferation of bad books that have the cores of quite decent books in them. There’s no longer any motivation to edit, refine, and restructure a book for years to gain the attention of a publisher (who’s likely to treat you like a peon, anyway). It’s just too easy to self-publish. The result is that the author breaks even in the short term, but the actual book suffers. On the bright side: Great books on obscure topics are easier to publish and easier for readers to find.

• Editors. While publishing is busy shape shifting in dark corners, it’s editing that’s on its death bed. (Or possibly on its deathbed or death-bed — who knows, these days? As long as you don’t put an apostrophe in the possessive “its,” you can get away with quite a bit these days. Particularly if you steer clear of Martha and the Knights of Good Grammar at SPOGG.) People who used to be editors have turned into content producers and writers where they edit content the way that your mother used to tuck a napkin into your sack lunch — hoping, vainly, that someone will appreciate it. It’s increasingly common to see books published by major companies that have received only a cursory edit and, apparently, no proofreading at all. It’s sad, but editors are nearly extinct.

• Publishers. The people and companies that make money by redistributing what writers (and other artists) produce will always be with us. Today they’re running around buying domain names, signing contracts with printing, binding, and shipping companies, and negotiating deals with distributors (from Costco for print to Amazon and Apple for digital publications). No matter how many editors they lay off—while wailing about downsizing and “the state of publishing these days”—many of the same folks are still at the top and, not so mysteriously, still in business. And they’re still interested in authors who write the sorts of stories that readers still buy — whether as ebooks, audio books, or print volumes. Publishers are doing just fine.

• Authors. While the threshold for becoming a published author has been lowered dramatically by inexpensive self-publishing and internet marketing, the layout of the literary world once a new writer crosses that threshold and stands, blinking, in the lobby is pretty much the same as before. The big hitters. The cool people. The literary-prize winners. The mid-listers. The late-bloomers. And the one-hit wonders. Authors are in the same place they’ve always been.