Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Pettiness, Thy name is Ivan
Every so often, a slightly gassy mother of three will sit down and start a literary blog.
The poor mother is in deep menopause, is convinced that she is a writer and will produce endless
instructions on the art of writing while herself not even near the "Famous Writers' " method of just letting one word follow another.
In fact she has failed three creative writing courses (How do you fail Creative Writing?...but she managed it).
But onward and upward. She goes on to parse sentences, establish rules.
Other bloggers are reading. This chick knows something.
But as time goes on the other bloggers go on to being published--at least on other people's blogs and the
gassy blogger keeps writing more and more about rules, methods, the do's and don'ts.
She finally produces something that looks like the opening of a fantasy, but it is so disjointed, so wordy,
that a veteran writer begins to think she must surely be good for something, even if it's the perverted image in his head.
What keeps up this delusion? Is there a cure?
It has been my experience that there are a lot of powerless people out there, and if it is true that absolute power corrupts, an absolute lack of power seems to corrupt absolutely.
So in every instance of an established writer trying to make a point on her blog, she will start badgering him or her to the point of driving the published writer right off a blog
. Especially established women writers.
And dare a male writer tell her something?
"Take that, you supercillious bastard, and furthermore, I'll kick you in the balls."
I have met so many of these gassy chicks throughout my travels.
Abysmally ignorant, unlettered, they nevertheless know how to f*ck up an artist.
It is their only talent.
But the woman does pick up a pointer or two on writing blogs. She has been at for years and years by now, and in fairnesss, the blog is interesting and arresting. We all want to improve. Sometimes you can take lessons from your waitress or hairdresser. Talent hides in the strangest places. Here and there our gassy blogger has picked up bits of writers' wisdom, the need to write to a plot, phrasing, timing.
Sounds by now like she almost knows what she is talking about.
But it's all from how-to books she has been reading; none of it is from her.
There was a time when I felt the professional is alwalys safe among amateurs.
Not any more.
They are manipulative, envious, dangerous.
Best to let sleeping mares (I was going to use another word) lie.