THE WINDY PRONOUNCEMENTS, proclamations, and pontifications of egotistical and self-serving politicians supposedly made on behalf of the greater good, the Great Unwashed Masses - yours truly, among others, lack appeal for a simple reason: Owing much to their undeniably morally and ethically deficient nature.
Simply and bluntly: I don't like liars of this stripe and have no patience or tolerance for them, especially when they would assume I am a receptive and willing fool, amicable and open to their latest, obscenely expensive and pointless scheme, certain to bring discontent and unhappiness to a great many just to satisfy the indulgences and interests of a very few.
And when politicians attempt to secure my talents and abilities for these pursuits I understandably get upset. Pissed. Antagonized. Infuriated. Perhaps even red in the face, and am given to speaking at the top of my lungs as reaction.
I know: The offer of gainful employment as a Writer penning speeches for a politician with higher and greater aspirations should not be hastily dismissed - especially in these unsettled and uneven economic times. But the prospect of prostituting myself in such a manner - putting honest words into the mouth of a dishonest person so that they may screw the taxpayer long-term - is not a proposition I find even remotely appealing or bearable.
Furthermore, given the finite nature of Life as we know it, I would rather commit my time and energy to literary pursuits that might actually better humanity, albeit in a small and very humble manner than to stand behind a snake-oil salesman who makes the con man in The Music Man look honest and saintly in comparison.
As some who read this effort know since the beginning of the year I have been committing much of my time and energy to an effort that - well, it may not be a literary pursuit, but it might better humanity in some way when completed. It is what is fancifully called "a personal matter": A project undertaken not to make money, but to satisfy a personal desire; a pet project, if you will.
When I decided to turn my attention to the pursuit of this particular pet project instead of focusing on other projects several people, whose concern is the bottom line of all things I do, expressed their disappointment in me, and one went so far as to suggest I might have a mental deficiency going on.
Of all the comments made regarding my decision that one, by far, may be the most accurate.
Simply, writing is a crazy person's game. It has to be to succeed.
I know I'm going to get mail in response to this opinion, so allow me to explain before you start measuring me for a nice white dinner jacket with extra long sleeves that come together in the back.
Writing, by and large, is a solitary pursuit, with no assurance of success when the words "the end" are presented. Writers in general write because they have to. It is the only thing that satisfies them at a basic level of existence. And the idea, the mere notion, one can make something resembling a living from keeping sane is, well, crazy.
Of course there are ways to assure a measure of financial means from this activity may be realized: A publishing contact that comes with an advance.
A previous track record demonstrating that what you are writing is worth an investment on the part of the publisher.
And jeopardizing this very tenuous position with an announcement such as the one I made with regards to the project I now pursue is a sure-fire way to get attention from mental health professionals, called upon by those who claim to have your best interests at heart.
Here's the thing: I believe the best writing comes of such pursuits. Writing that is not restrained or affected or constricted or burdened with preconceived notions and great expectations wrought and imposed by editors and marketing types or booksellers who erroneously (and, often, ignorantly) shelve your latest opus in the wrong section, leaving fans and admirers of your work to wonder where it is.
Writing that comes about by way of crazy is writing that endures.
Thomas Paine and Walt Whitman wrote efforts that, for their times, were considered crazy. But they endured despite Paine being jailed and Whitman being removed from more than a few dinner invite lists.
Allow a moment for a digression: I am not suggesting or remotely implying my work could be considered equitable or comparable to the works of Paine or Whitman. Not at all. Not under any circumstance.
What I am saying, without exception, is that like Paine and Whitman and Benjamin Franklin and a multitude of others who pursued a writing project because they wanted to, perhaps had to, I am doing so because I must do so.
Which brings me to a topic I have been discussing with several Writers I know: At what point does a Writer go from being a Writer to being, well, a whore for commerce? At what point does a Writer stop being an Artistic type to being something that resembles the aforementioned politician: A person, but not an individual, who lacks a creative soul framed with morals and ethics, who is deficient of standards and principles, devoid of values and beliefs? And when a Writer becomes this abomination what does it mean for what they do and for what other Writers do?
If the financial health and well-being of the publishing industry at large is any indication, and goes to act as answer to the questions posed, then the individual and collective actions of Writers at large merit a serious review.
Specifically, what it is Writers do to make a dollar.
A Writer I know, who makes the bulk of his income working as a "risk analyst", has told me repeatedly that he would give up almost everything to pursue writing full time. When I suggest repeatedly he do so the response is a undeniably cynical and pessimistic: Oh, I couldn't do that. There's too much of a risk involved.
Doing what you want to do? There's too much risk involved?
Yes, is his reply consistently.
Recently I posed a follow-up question to him with regards to his predictament: I asked him if he was married.
I am, he replied. You know that.
How many years, I asked.
Twenty-seven. Almost twenty-eight.
Are you happy? I asked.
Of course.
And wasn't the prospect of getting married a risk?
Well, of course it was, he replied.
And are you happy now?
Absolutely.
And isn't there a risk in that?
He paused before responding. It isn't the same thing.
Yes, it is.
I know some may wonder what this has to do with writing. Specifically, the piece of writing I am pursuing presently. Everything. I am pursuing the writing I am presently working on because it makes me happy. I know that to do so is a risk: Personal and individual happiness are a risky business. I also know the risk involved when it comes to the time and energy committed to the effort. But no matter. I am doing this because I believe in it, and because I do the risk inherent becomes insignificant.
It is a truth the publishing industry at large should take note of. Nowadays there is less and less risk involved in the industry. Fewer and fewer writers are embraced by the industry because they are considered high risk.
Previously I put forth the notion that writing is a crazy person's game, and must be so to succeed. It takes a crazy person - relatively-speaking - to take on the risk that is writing. It requires crazy to succeed as a Writer. How else might the world experience the likes of Dan Simmons - who never ceases to amaze as he moves from one genre to another? How else would the world be allowed to know Harlan Ellison who, astounds at the same moment he offends and outrages? How else could humanity have the opportunity to come to the likes of Neil Gaiman or Walter Mosley or the late Douglas Adams except through the risk they took and the risk their publishers eventually took?
I leave you to ponder this while I continue on to the end of this diatribe. Back at the beginning of this essay I made mention of politicians and their perverse desire to use - exploit, really - others for their gain, and how it was such things offend me. For a simple reason: They risk nothing while everyone else should be expected to risk everything.
I am undertaking a risk to realize the writing project I am pursuing presently. I am taking on this risk because I believe in what it is I am doing.
The time has come for others - including politicians - to do the same.
Only then will the world and all it has to offer be better for all.
To quote the great American philosopher, Larry the Cable Guy:
Git-R-Dun!
A LIFE'S TIME is scheduled for publication in 2008.