Art and Money in Manjula Martin's Scratch

Art and commerce have been intimately intertwined throughout history, but it seems that public acknowledgment of that relationship has been scant.  For quite some time, the system of patronage was in play, where a rich individual, the church, or some other group would monetarily support artists, musicians, and other artisans in their work.  To a small degree this still happens in the US, but the more likely incantation nowadays are those artists who come from wealthy families and/or have a trust fund at their disposal.  There are also for-profit and non-profit groups like the MacArthur Foundation, who disburse sums of money for recipients who show promise in various fields.  But for those who are not artists, or working in the realm of patronage, the necessary relationship of art and money might be foreign territory.

Writers, just like any other workers, need to be able to support themselves in their craft, which means that they need to be paid enough to be able to pay rent/mortgage, healthcare, bills, necessities, etc.  But how much does a writer make on a book?  If a hardcover book costs $30, how much of that amount actually goes into the author's pocket?  Can an author really afford to live and work in America today, with writing as the only source of her/his income?  To attempt to answer this question, Manjula Martin started the online Scratch Magazine, which explored the worlds of commerce and writing.  After the magazine folded in 2015, Martin compiled some of the work in that magazine to create the collection Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living.

There are a total of 33 pieces in the book, including many well-known authors such as Roxane Gay, Jonathan Franzen, Alexander Chee, and Cheryl Strayed.  The entries are divided into three sections: Early Days, The Daily Grind, and Someday.  "Early Days" features authors at the beginning of their careers, including what would be their Big Break, and how money factored into their lives at that point.  Some of the authors were working day jobs, some were living paycheck-to-paycheck (alone or with a partner), and others were racked with credit card and/or student loan debt.  When they finally got a book deal, they received an "advance" amount of money that was paid out over the course of the publishing process.  For example, Cheryl Strayed received $100,000 when her first book, Torch, was sold.  This seems like a wildly large amount of money, until she realized how it would be paid - NOT all at once.  The first $25,000 installment was paid out initially in 2003, but after her agent took 15% for commission, that left her with $21,000 -before- taxes.  The next $25,000 (really $21,000) installment came two years later, when the revisions were completed.  The third $25,000 ($21,000) check came in 2006, when the hardcover edition of Torch was actually published.  The final $25,000 ($21,000) check came when the paperback version was published in 2007.  She admits that she was very lucky to even receive this amount of money, but is very honest with discussing that, although it's helpful, it's not enough to live off of on its own.  To support her family, she and her documentary filmmaker husband took teaching jobs, freelance journalism assignments, and any other kind of work that would pay.  Even now, after her second book Wild was commercially popular and adapted into a movie, she isn't rich.  She is able to pay her bills and "buy boots NOT in a thrift shop", but she isn't living the Scrooge McDuck kind of life.

In "The Daily Grind", authors share the realities of being a writer, and how these realities differ from romantic notions of Literary Life.  As the editor herself writes, "Any artist who produces work for public consumption must navigate a tenuous balance of ambition and pragmatism.  Ambition requires dreaming; sometimes dreams veer into fantasy...The Writing Life is one such fantasy; another is quitting your day job."  While she pursued her writing, she also worked as a waitress, in retail, as a personal assistant, a receptionist, a reporter, and various temp jobs.  She has had to find time to write, rather than making it her one and only profession.  Such is the case for most authors, the rare exceptions being mega-stars like Stephen King, John Grisham, and Joyce Carol Oats.

The final heading, "Someday", examines what happens to authors after they've had a Big Break and how their lives have or have not changed.  In particular, how the term "New York Times Bestseller" brings with it the connotation of massive wealth for an author, when it really is closer to being meaningless.  Austin Kleon, author of Show Your Work and Steal Like an Artists, among other published works, is interviewed in this collection by the editor.  Although he's been a NYT Bestselling author, he still works a day job.  Before, it was through web designing and copywriting,  Now, it's as from books, speaking engagements, and art pieces that he sells.  As Kleon puts it, he's just "swapping one day job for another".  He gets real about the advice that many people give aspiring artists, that if you do whatever it is that you love, then you'll be able to make a living at it.  He freely admits that that is horrible advice; just because you love doing something doesn't mean that you'll be able to earn any money from it.  It sounds too good to be true, because it is.  He isn't discouraging ambitious artists from pursuing their craft, just to be real about having a day job to pay the rent and put food on the table, and letting the art feed their creativity and their soul.

For anyone interested in being a writer in America, Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living is an invaluable read.  It will destroy the fantasy that you can quit your job/drop out of school, write The Thing and make millions off of it and never have to work a "real job" ever.  It lays bare the realities of life as an author, and really the creative life in general.  There are fewer and fewer patrons out there in the world, so artists should be prepared to support themselves by something other than their art.  Even wildly famous, NY Times Bestselling authors may not make nearly as much money as you'd think, and have to take teaching jobs or speaking engagements to make ends meet.  This book is eye opening and speaks its truth with conviction, but is ultimately very hopeful - art must continue to be put out into the world, but artists should be prepared to scratch out a living.



Librorum annis,

The "Guilty Reader" Tag

As people who read books, and who others identify as readers, we are sometimes expected to behave in certain ways.  Maybe it's the about the books you tell people that you've read (whether you have or not), how you treat your physical books, or not reading certain types of books...it's all things that can make us readers feel a little guilty.  The questions in the "Guilty Reader" tag get at these kinds of things.  Honestly I feel no guilt whatsoever about my reading...I read what I like and what I'm interested in reading.  Simple as that.  Here are the questions!

Have you ever re-gifted a book that you were given?

Absolutely.  A few years ago, I had purchased a copy of Delicious Foods by James Hannaham after hearing about it on NPR. It's an amazing book about a young boy named Eddie, his drug addicted mother Darlene, and the Southern farm to where she is absconded and given alcohol and drugs in exchange for work.  This tale of family, race, and slavery features a unique character - Scotty, the fast talking, devilish voice to represent the crack cocaine to which Darlene is so addicted.  It's creative, hard hitting, but still funny.

I must have talked about it a bunch, because I was gifted a copy from a friend for the holidays that same year.  Because I had two copies, I had no problems re-gifting it to someone else who I thought would also enjoy it.  Otherwise, I can't remember re-gifting a book, probably because I'm picky when it comes to the editions and specific books that I want.  If someone's giving me a book, there's a pretty good chance I'll like it.

Have you ever said you have read a book, when in fact you hadn't?

I think this comes down to social/peer pressure of things you "should" do or "should" know.  I hate those "shoulds".  But, alas, I have been guilty of occasionally telling someone that I had read a book when I hadn't.  Many are from the Western Cannon.  Thinking about it now, honestly now I'm less wrapped up in feelings of commitment to reading The Cannon than I had been just a few years ago.  So, I'm less likely to feel I should lie about what I've read.  So here are just a few books that I haven't read:

Have you ever told someone you haven't read a book when you have?

I can't say that I've ever felt embarrassed/uncomfortable/shy about something that I've read, so that I wouldn't admit to it publicly.  However, our society definitely (and unfortunately) looks down on certain genres of books - romance, science fiction, and mystery among others - so that some readers may feel like they have to hide their reading from others.  I am hopeful that this is changing, albeit slowly.

Have you ever borrowed a book and not returned it?

Never!  And my deep concern about not getting back a book is why I don't loan out books, unless I'm 100% ok with not getting them back.

Have you ever read a book series out of order?

I honestly can't remember the last time I read a book series, in or out of order.

Have you ever spoiled a book for someone?

I try to be careful about this, and will make regular use of the "spoiler alert" warning when talking about a book with a major plot twist or a surprise ending.  I did, however, inadvertently ruin the ending of Ready Player One by Ernest Cline, when talking about the forthcoming movie adaptation.

Have you ever dog-eared a book?

I'm a sticky-tab or bookmark reader, not a dog-ear reader.

Have you ever told someone you don't own a book when you do?

Nope.

Have you ever skipped a chapter/section of a book?

If I find myself doing this, it usually means that I'm not enjoying the book.  Once I realize that I've read a few pages, but don't remember anything about them, then I have to ask myself "why" and if I really want to keep reading the book.

Have you ever bad-mouthed a book you actually liked?

No!  I'm guessing that you might be inclined to do this if you were embarrassed about what you're reading, but you shouldn't!



That's it!  I guess I'm not such of a guilty reader after all, or at least I choose not to feel guilty when it comes to reading.



Librorum annis,

Book Review - Devotion by Patti Smith

In Devotion, Patti Smith invites readers to peek behind the curtain of her creative process.  The short work is made up of three parts - "How the Mind Works", "Devotion", and "A Dream is Not a Dream" and together they form the culmination of a creative writing project from inspiration to writing, to the finished project and beyond.  It's a fascinating look at how art and life intermingle and mutually influence each other.

In "How the Mind Works", Smith takes us along on a stream of consciousness journey.  It begins with her happening upon a film called Risttuules, about the mass deportation of Estonians to Siberia during Stalin's regime.  It's a haunting film, shot in black and white with a mixture of live-action and tableau.  The camera moves through the scene while all the actors stay immobile, giving the impression of time both moving and standing still.  There are desolate forests of birch trees in winter, Soviets rounding up villagers into train cars, and crudely dug graves.  From these images, Smith visualizes a scene of a small clapboard house next to a lake in a forest, something that was entirely her creation but would have fit neatly into the movie.  As it was late night/early morning, she fell back asleep dreaming of the movie and her created scene.

When she awoke, she was still haunted by the movie, and felt compelled to head to her favorite neighborhood cafe for breakfast and to write.  However, there was so much street construction nearby that she couldn't concentrate on her writing and headed home.  She was supposed to fly to Paris that evening, but her flight was cancelled and she had to hurry to make a sooner flight.  The purpose of the trip was to talk to journalists and writers about her experiences with the craft of writing, and she muses on the fact that she's a writer who is currently having trouble coming up with an idea to write about.  In her hurry to pack, she grabs a book about French philosopher and activist Simone Weil, and the memoir of French writer and Nobel laureate Patrick Modiano. 

When she arrives in Paris, she finds herself reliving a trip she and her sister took to Paris when they were young women.  The park bench near Picasso's bust of Apollinaire, the hotels and cafes, the youthful exuberance with which they took on the city.  Back in her hotel, she falls asleep reading the biography of Simone Weil, wakes and reads a different section of the book, turns on the TV, nods off, and wakes up to an ice skating competition.  The last skater to take the ice is a Russian teenager, and despite her drowsiness Smith can't take her eyes off the young woman; her skill and grace on the ice were that compelling. 

When Patti Smith meets with her French publishers, she finds that her editor's office is the same one that Albert Camus occupied.  Some of his books still sit on the shelves, including books written by Simone Weil, whom Camus published posthumously.  After their meeting, she spends time wandering around Paris before finding herself at 37 Boulevard Saint-Michel, the longtime home of Simone Weil and her family.  Camus made the same journey here, many years prior, upon publishing her late works. 

She then moves on to the south of France for another leg of her book presentations.  After a lunch in a Mediterranean cafe with her French handler, they wander to a nearby cemetery and spend time looking at the graves.  One in particular catches Smith's attention, for a young girl named Fanny who loved horses, and a much older headstone with the word "Devouement" carved into it.  When she asked her friend what the word meant, she was told "Devotion". 

The next day, before heading to the next leg of her journey, Smith wanders through a botanical garden and had such a strong feeling of excitement that she took out her pen and notebook and began to write.  She continues writing during her train journey back to Paris, and through the Chunnel into London.  She uses part of this trip to seek out Simone Weil's grave, in Bybrook Cemetery.  She notes that the date is the birthday of her late brother, who had a daughter named Simone.  When she finally locates the headstone, she left an offering, snapped a picture, and felt at peace.  In the final pages of "How the Mind Works", Smith talks about fate and its role in the creative process.  Specifically, how she began writing the story that would ultimately become the next section, and the title of the entire work, "Devotion". 

"Devotion" is a short story, about 45 pages, that features a young Estonian girl named Eugenia.  She was sent away to live with her sister and her husband, because her parents feared their fate under Stalin.  Eugenia was a precocious and wildly intelligent girl, becoming fluent in many languages and scoring some of the highest marks in school.  However, her one true passion was ice skating.  She leaves school for good, and focuses only her skill and proficiency as a skater on the little pond near the house she lives at in the woods.  After she is abandoned by her sister, a wealthy man happens upon her and becomes infatuated and obsessed.  He buys her whatever she wants and provides her with a dedicated skating coach.  He only asks that she devote herself to him above all else.  When the skating coach encourages Eugenia to travel with her for competitions, it creates a deep and life-altering conflict for her and her devotion to her art. 

The final section, called "A Dream Is Not a Dream", explores what role dreams, both sleeping and "the dream" of creating great work, play in art and craft.  Channeling future events, incorporating imagined pasts, all these things serve to add depth and richness to what one is writing.  She finishes the section with a reminiscence of a side trip she took, when in France, to visit the home of Albert Camus, an estate purchased with his Nobel prize money and where his descendants still live.  She met his daughter Catherine, and was able to spend time with an unpublished manuscript of his, THE FIRST MAN, which he had been intending to publish when he was killed in a car crash.  She writes that the power of this encounter was like a call to action, and that is what great writing often is. 

It's interesting to know that this work was created as an expansion of the keynote lecture she gave to the Windham-Campbell Book Festival at Yale University, and published by their in-house press.  It is the first installment in the Why I Write series, delivered during the Festival.  Karl Ove Knausgaard's lecture will be next in the series, because he delivered the keynote address to this year's festival.  These lectures feature prominent and highly creative writers discussing the craft and art of their writing, in particular the creative process.  Smith essentially provides the background information the lead to her story "Devotion", and the story itself, so that readers can bear witness to her method.  I can certainly imagine a creative writing course that might include Devotion as a tool for reflection and discussion about the nature of inspiration and creativity. 

Patti Smith is one of the most prolific and interesting creative forces in our time.  From music to art, memoir and poetry, she is highly respected and regarded.   That's why it was such a thrill to be able to take a small step into her world, even for just a few pages.  Devotion works to demystify how artistic work can happen, and the roles that observation and reflection pay in inspiration.  That's not to say that, after reading this book, you're going to be able to go out and create something that would be equal to what Smith does - her life and experiences are her own - but it gives hope to those of us who fear that artistry might be the domain of a select, chosen few.  This deeply insightful book could be the gateway for the rest of us to take on a creative project, whether it's writing or a craft of some other ilk.  And for that, and Smith's devotion, we are grateful.



Librorum annis,