Gold or Glory

By Ashley Lister

From an author’s perspective I think the distinction between literary and commercial fiction is often seen as a dispute between those who write to say something important and those who write to earn money. A colleague once summed it up for me with the following quote from the bible:

For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

Matthew 16:26

Call me mercenary but I think the clue here is in the question. If a man gains the whole world but loses his soul, he has gained the whole world. Which would I rather have? A whole world or a soul? I think I’d like to have a whole world. From what I’ve heard about souls (from those people who claim to have them and know about them) souls don’t pay bills.

I don’t see many people staying warm through the winter because they’ve kept a good hold on their souls. I don’t see many people enjoying a surfeit of food, drink or wealth because they have souls. If it comes to profit or soul I’m going to pick profit every time. It’s far more useful for settling debts and putting food on the table.

I’ve been writing for money for the best part of two decades now. It’s never as much money as I’d hope. And there have been many times when I’ve had to compromise artistic integrity for the commercial benefits of coin.

For example, I once wrote a book in the form of a fairy tale. It was a very adult fairy tale with bonking and other narrative developments a person is unlikely to find in a traditional fairy tale. Nevertheless, it was a strong book and I was proud of the finished product. The editor I was working with at that time said he’d take it at the usual rate. But he wanted me to cut the opening line of, ‘Once upon a time…’ and also lose the ‘happily ever after’ line at the end. He also suggested we should cut ‘…all the other Hans Christian Anderson shit.’

To my mind, these changes destroyed the instant identification of the story as being constructed in the fashion of a fairytale.

However, I accepted the editor’s suggested revisions. It was a simple choice. I could either say no, and keep the story as an integral whole that remained consistent with my original artistic vision. Or I could say yes and pay the mortgage that month.

Does this mean I’m a whore? Yes. Do I care that I’m a whore? Not really.

I’m naïve enough to believe that there is literary merit to be found in commercial fiction, and I’m naïve enough to believe that there will be eventual commercial success for all deserving literary work.

The Brontës’ first collection of poetry sold only two copies. Frank Herbert’s acclaimed science fiction fantasy novel, Dune, was rejected by more than two dozen publishers who couldn’t perceive its worth. Even the diary of Anne Frank was rejected by a publisher who said, “The girl doesn't […] have a special perception or feeling which would lift that book above the 'curiosity' level.”

There are many similar fables of talent being overlooked by the writing industry.

Ultimately, the sheep will still buy whatever Oprah or Richard and Judy tell them regardless of the literary or commercial merit on the pages. The sheep don’t have the brains to pick books for themselves. It has always been this way and it will never change. But eventually, over time, literature is usually recognised and lauded appropriately.

All of which leads to the inevitable question: do I aspire to one day achieve literary success? The answer is: I guess it would be cool. But I don’t intend to go hungry waiting.

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How I Feel About the "Novels" of Katie Price...

Jordan and her ghostwriter Rebecca Farnworth

This week’s theme, ‘literary fiction vs commercial fiction’, has the potential to be dangerous. It has the potential to evoke great mists of anger. And, contained within these mists are small glass orbs of sulphuric acid, suspended by nothing more than strings of self-restraint...

One word is capable of making me run for the scissors. One name makes me want to cut the strings, cause the fragile orbs to fall and allow the acid to burn massive holes through titles such as Angel,  Crystal and Sapphire. These are not the writings of a spiritual hippie on a path of enlightenment – if they were, I would probably hate them a little less – but rather they are (just a few of) the “novels” “by” Katie (aka Jordan) Price.

*The presence of scare quotes around both ‘novels’ and ‘by’ is deliberate and completely justified. I refuse to state, acknowledge or use the literal meaning of these two words when placed in the same context as said page three model for the following reasons:

1) A ‘novel’ is generally thought to mean: an invented prose narrative that is usually long and complex – and I don’t believe for one minute that Jordan is capable of writing anything longer or more complex than a shopping list. (Please make sure that all hate mail uses correct grammar and punctuation. Thank you.)

2) The preposition ‘by’ can be employed to indentify the agent performing the action, e.g. a novel  [written] by Tolstoy. Therefore, given that Jordan has a ghostwriter, I would argue that it is not correct to write: a novel written by Katie Price, given that she hasn’t actually engaged in the act of writing (her ghostwriter has).

 However, despite this fact, I will continue to allow her to be the object of my disdain...

...Because it’s difficult to make voodoo dolls of the unknown, spectre –like, Rebecca Farnworth.

...Because publishers accept a name before they accept a manuscript.

...Because our celebrity obsessed society insists on buying a name rather than a novel.

...Because we value fame over talent.

...Because bookshops merely roll over and indulge immature palates.

...Because I walked into Tesco in 2009*, and saw Sapphire “by” Katie Price placed at number one in the book charts – and despaired.

*It was also on this same night, in Tesco, that I decided to rewrite the charts. Removing all of Jordan’s “books” and replacing them with Ian McEwan’s On Chisel Beach (which was number fifteen in the charts).

For me, the literary verse commercial fiction battle will only ever result in one winner. Literary fiction is literature that has the ability to last – to be read, enjoyed and sought years, decades, even centuries after the author has died. I very much doubt that the “novels” of Jordan will survive the test of time, and if they do then maybe society really is doomed.

But for now, the “novels” “by” Katie Price will remain as a pet hate; they are that one thing that I really wish I could throw into the Room 101.

Thank you for reading,
Lar   

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UK best sellers. We're all doomed.

If I was going to put a new book out, I might consider finding a celebrity endorsement for it, a snappy picture or a cluster of key words to bring it to the attention of google. I might make the cover yellow, I might make it something gritty, something an audience can relate to- a tale of childhood and abuse (true to life, obviously), neglect or perhaps even abduction.

I won’t be doing any of these things.

I doubt I will ever be a best-selling author. If I wrote something and decided to publish it, I would hope it would be done on merit and not on the sheer need to sell someone some drivel with a ‘look at me, I was beaten’ slant to it. Sadly, I think this pretty much counts me out of the bestselling book market. I’ll point out here that if Blackpool’s branch of Waterstones closed, the residents of this town would be left to choose their books primarily from the shelves of ASDA and TESCO- the future doesn’t look great, I must admit.

The blog theme this week is a slightly contentious one, I’m afraid- we’re going with “Literary vs Commercial Fiction”. I have an opinion on this, as do all of you readers I am sure. Is it my place to tell someone what to read? Is it my place to tell someone to put the bloody ‘based on true events’ book down and read something valuable? Is it even my place to rant on about the lack of appealing fiction on the shelves and my sense of despair in passing an oversized ‘Biography/Autobiography/Celebrity Fiction/’Based on a true story’ section.  Readers of this stuff- you have your opinions. I’ll agree to hate you for them.

In terms of poetry, I am not quite sure where this theme points me. For a long time I’ve been harping on about what is probably deemed ‘commercial’ as opposed to ‘literary’ stuff. Performance poets are snappy, direct and deliver passion that is hard to deny but, on the page, it often doesn’t work. Go the other way and have a look at more ‘page’ poets and perhaps they are held back by a lack of performability. It is hard to attract an audience with these poems and yet, they are often the poets we cling on to the most. As with the fiction, I think being current helps. There are trends to follow and whilst right now books about being beaten and battered in foster homes romances ending with disease are great, I suspect lots of them will fall by the wayside when you look back over the years, do we want our poems doing this.

I will finish here by just giving you readers a point to consider. Last year 35% of books that graced the fiction chart were published before 2010, meaning we are actually re-reading the older stuff, the stuff that has been hanging around, loved and recommended. Movie books, celebrity chefs and tales from the pens of cultural ‘icons’ will keep regenerating, of course, but with the likes of Dickens and Jane Austen proving ever more popular amongst readers, maybe the trick is to buy the books that can stand the test of time, not just shout for a week or two. I caught a reading by Lynton Kwesi Johnson earlier this year- a poet I have admired since studying his work some years ago- and afterwards was left thinking something was missing. There was no delivery, no punch to it and, after years of Black rights not being a massive issue in the UK media, I felt the poems were almost left behind with the time. These are good poems that rely heavily on delivery and if I have learnt anything for my own writing from the experience, it is that I never want to be a performance poet past his peak, much rather a page poet trying to find his feet. I hope to have a new poem up for next week, until then, keep writing. 

Thanks for reading, S.  

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