Well, I've just received news that Tartarus Press has shifted the last few copies of Morbid Tales, my second collection of short stories, and will not be reprinting. I note that the book is already listed as out of print. Don't ask me where you can get hold of the few remaining copies that are for sale. Obviously not from Tartarus, and not from me, either. I don't have any spare copies, I'm afraid, as I've already given them all away to people who probably use them to adjust the height of their computer monitors with.
Every now and then, when people learn I write stuff, they will say to me something like, "Oh, I'll check the shops for your book", at which I usually get a sinking feeling and wish to kill myself. I suppose people can't be blamed too much for not buying my books, as they are ridiculously hard to get hold of. I've been told by someone that he always recommends my books to people, but they find the buying process online too Byzantine and eventually give up on the endeavour, along with the wearying business of taking air into their lungs. Well, now they have a very slight inkling of how I feel most of the time about being a writer. It's fucking horrible, thank you very much.
Anyway, I didn't mean to go on another rant. This (rant) has just come out unexpectedly – obviously it's still there lurking beneath the surface.
But no, people are sadly, sadly naive about what a writer's life is like. No, I don't earn a living from my fiction. I know many, many writers, and I'd say fewer than one percent of them earn a living from their writing. What I mostly see in the world of writing is writers getting shat on repeatedly. Another common misconception I'd like to dispell here. When a book is published, right, that doesn't mean that suddenly infinite copies of it exist in a never-to-be-exhausted supply. Print runs are finite, and, when you're not famous, are usually very, very limited. This means that, if you're lucky, the book could disappear from the marketplace, forever, within months. If you're not so lucky, it will theoretically stay in the marketplace forever, just because no one buys it, or it could get remaindered.
So, how do I feel about the first edition of Morbid Tales coming to an end? Hmmm. Well, Morbid Tales was my second collection, but the fact that it was a hardback, nicely produced, did give me a certain sense of actually being a writer. When I got the cardboard box with my copies in, I felt – and this is typical of me – nothing much really. This was what I'd worked for for many years. I had a very faint sense of satisfaction, hardly passing the threshold of thought into feeling. I like the cover. The book got one or two reviews that gave me something of a boost as a writer. I mean, in terms of confidence, not in terms of sales or anything like that. I'm glad, generally, to be associated with Tartarus Press, and if you want to support them and me you could always buy a copy of Strange Tales Volume II in which I have a story, and tell them you particularly want it for the story by Quentin S. Crisp. You could also just buy more books and read more generally.
I don't think I've answered my own question. How do I feel about Morbid Tales coming to an end? Well, copyright reverts to me now, so I can always try and interest some other publisher in the material. I'm a bit too tired for that at the moment. What I really feel is not so different to what I felt when I first held the solid book in my hands. But now I also feel a vague sense of freedom and a vague sense of emptiness. This is what I became a writer for – this freedom, this emptiness.
people has the stupid feeling to feel sorry or ashamed about things they dont have to. i’m not supposed to read your books just because i’m always in your blog, reading your posts… (maybe i’ll read them in 10 years, most probably) i dont know… i dont feel as i have to…
“maybe i’ll read them in 10 years, most probably”is just because I’m contrary to mode. Not that you’re in mode now, but I’m contrary to what people say ‘try it, it’s amazing’… I always doubt!that’s why I’ll read it in 10 years… hehehe if I’ll be alive till there
I realise that this is a very whingeing sort of blog post, by the way (what else is a blog for?), but I feel I should point out that I’m not actually trying to get people to buy my books if they’re not interested. That doesn’t actually help me at all, believe me. Charity buys do not interest me. I sometimes wonder how I do come across on this blog. If someone who knows me has a problem with something I’ve written, I’d prefer they’d tell me, and this has actually happened in the past, so I’m not joking. If you don’t know me and you have a problem with what I’ve written, well, that’s what the comment function is for, I suppose.Also, yes, I’m still optimistic about my writing, if ‘optimistic’ is the right word. I just wish I had more time to write all the ideas that are teeming in my brain, that’s all.
hehehheeh… that smile was sarcastic! not to you, but seemed to me!
See above.Anyway, I do appreciate you not being polite. Thank you.
“If you don’t know me and you have a problem with what I’ve written, well, that’s what the comment function is for”I dont know you indeed, and believe me, I have no problems with what you write. Even if you’d write something I disagree, I’d tell.That’s why conversations is what for. Face to face, or not.I’m not the person who is always upset about something someone told. I dont give a fuck about it. I know there are just opinions, in a blog, and everybody have the right to express what they need.So do I. And I’ve to give you a smile for that! 😀 hehehehehe
Ha ha, you’ve seen through my attempt to make you feel guilty. Oh well.
That’s all right. Sorry about that. What you said suddenly made me realise how the post might sound, if people know me or if they don’t. I’m just a born whinger. Some of us, I believe Ligotti once said, were born to bellyache.
Hello dear Q,I’m having some difficulty understanding why your publication is “out of print”.Maybe I’ve missed something here. Is it out of print because demand is no longer there, or is it out of print for another reason? I know I don’t visit you often enough to keep pace whith what you report regarding the book (my faukt entirely) but I infer you have had “good sales” (am I correct?) and so I deduce the book should still be available if demand is there.But wait, I re-read again, and now a glimmer appears (I am a bear of very little brain and know you will forgive me for not understanding immediately).As to the rest of your narrative? I can add nothing further beyond what I have always told you about your talent, as I see it, and your worth, as you see it.If you could ever bring my observation into a meld with your own observation (regarding your ability) it is possible that my view would be the greater part of the mix and, somehow, would reassure you and motivate you to go on in a somewhat different way and build your self-assessment toward a more positive, less negative, outcome.I would certainy hope so….. but I will not hold my breathe as I wait.Yours, ever in friendshipLP :up:
“What you said suddenly made me realise how the post might sound, if people know me or if they don’t.”We all make some impression for the people who visit our blog, and believe me, that impression is not the true one. How can be possible to know someone by internet, reading his/her posts?I dont believe it can be possible. I’ve some impression about many people here, but there are just impressions and they dont mind, because what you are is not showed to me, in truth. Neither what I am is showed to you.So, if we worry about what people think reading our posts… it could be better to dont have a blog.
Robin Davies writes:
It could be worse… If the book was a total disaster the first print run would never have sold out.I suggest you cheer yourself up with the new Sparks album “Exotic Creatures of the Deep”. I’m currently working my way through their marathon performances of all their songs from all 21 albums at the Carling Academy in Islington.Oh, and do check out that Doctor Who episode “Blink”. I don’t think you’ll regret it.
“So, if we worry about what people think reading our posts… it could be better to dont have a blog.”Yes, well, there’s the rub, as they say. This is something that occurs to me constantly. I don’t know why I do actually go on with my blog, except that maybe I want to punish myself.
Hello Lokutus.”I’m having some difficulty understanding why your publication is ‘out of print’.”Well, I think you worked this out anyway, but just to be clear, basically a book becomes ‘out of print’ when the publisher no longer has copies. There should still be copies floating around in the world, but the source itself has dried up. I think in my case there are copies in specialist bookshops. It’s possible there’s a copy at Fantasy Centre on Holloway Road in London. It’s even possible there’s a copy at the branch of Waterstones on Piccadilly. You might be able to get copies on Amazon or ebay or from other places, too. Basically, small, independent publishers, such as Tartarus Press, at least the ones of which I’m aware, tend to publish books in single print runs, with few exceptions. So, the fact is, I was expecting this to happen. It’s just a strange feeling now it’s come. I didn’t have particularly good sales with Morbid Tales, no. I mean, at least it has sold out. But, as one bookseller candidly told me in a smoke-wreathed bar, on one occasion, “Living authors don’t sell, dear boy.” You can imagine how dispiriting it is to hear such a thing. You can imagine the career move that this immediately suggests. And, I’m afraid to say, it does make me bitter. One of the things I hate most is hearing people say, “There are no decent writers about these days.” I want to say, “There are, it’s just that you and your kind can’t be bothered to find out about them and support them.” Of course, no one can force someone to take an interest in something, but we’re talking about people who purport to be interested. So, well, basically, a publisher like Tartarus is actually taking a risk in publishing a living, unknown author such as myself, and most of the time, it would seem, the risk doesn’t really pay off. I think if there had been notable demand for the book there would have been a reprint. But a single print run, in this case, is the default policy.”If you could ever bring my observation into a meld with your own observation (regarding your ability) it is possible that my view would be the greater part of the mix and, somehow, would reassure you and motivate you to go on in a somewhat different way and build your self-assessment toward a more positive, less negative, outcome.”Thank you. I have actually been optimistic enough to send my most recent short story to a very famous magazine that even non-writer types will have heard of. I don’t know how long I should wait to hear back from them (I’m sure I won’t hear anything unless they’re actually interested). There’s a paradoxical element to my complaining here, because I don’t write for money. I think people do get annoyed with me about this, but I’m not being completely ‘irrational’ by not writing for money and then complaining when my work doesn’t sell. I just happen to be in the unfortunate position of living in a world in which my own values do not gel with the prevalent values of society. I’ll make this a little clearer (I hope). I believe that most writers survive by having a day-job (or in the old days they’d have an inheritance). The reason I complain more loudly than some other writers about my work not selling is that as well as, like every other human being, having urgent financial considerations in my life, I have also always been extremely bad at the whole ‘day-job’ thing. No one ever believes me when I say this, but I’m the only one actually living my life, so I’ve got the right to say what my own experience is. The day job thing has always made it near impossible for me to write, and being unable to write has always made it near impossible for me to live. I would like to eliminate this problem by having writing be the source of my income. I feel like maybe I’m getting closer. I hope so. I don’t need mansions and yachts, and bevvies of bathing beauties surrounding a magnum of chilled champagne by the pool. But it would be very nice to have enough not to have to put one’s future security constantly from one’s mind as something that doesn’t bear thinking about.
I think about it somtimes, and I wonder why I still blogging… I feel frustrated when I write something is really important and I passed hours to write it well, and nobody go there and comment. Specially when I do those ridiculous posts about ridiculous stuff and seems that everybody go there and comment.People have an stupid preference about dumb stuff. But if I write about something really important that people should read to keep informed, they dont give a f*.It piss me off. Really. And frustrates me. That’s why sometimes I keep myself away for some days off. But I feel necessity to talk with others. Specially in other countries, sharing different ways of living. There are people here that really worth to keep contact.
“Oh, and do check out that Doctor Who episode ‘Blink’. I don’t think you’ll regret it.”I watched Blink last night. I enjoyed it, though I think there are still others that I preferred. I’d have to watch some of the episodes again, but it’s just possible that my favourite so far is The Long Game. There were lots of ideas in that I enjoyed. I thought the satire of the media was strong and menacing, I liked the whole thing about the air-conditioning, the monster was a classic Doctor Who slime-thing with big teeth, and I liked the idea of the technology itself being ‘wrong’, expressing the barbaric culture that developed it. Things I enjoyed in Blink: Of course, the whole ‘quantum lock’ thing was the key to the story and a neat idea. And it was also neat to have the creatures defeat themselves/each other in the way they did. I liked the DVD conversation, too. That was well-written. Reminded me of a scene from Red Dwarf. Poor old Detective Inspector Shipton, though. Just when he thought he was on for the promise of a lifetime, he gets whisked away to 1969 by a malevolent stone angel feeding off the abstract energy of his potential future. Bloody typical! Apart from that, overgrown, ruined houses are always good. So, yes, overall, I liked it.”It could be worse… If the book was a total disaster the first print run would never have sold out.”Well, yes, I do sometimes tell myself that, in terms of books published, at least, I’ve already done better than Lovecraft ever did in his lifetime. I believe the only book he ever had published was The Shadow Over Innsmouth, in a print run of seventy copies, and that got remaindered. It’s criminal, really, and strange to think that he could never have realised he was one of the defining figures of the twentieth century. Ah, there’s some corroboration here:http://www.hplovecraft.com/life/biograph.aspIt is likely that, as he saw death approaching, Lovecraft envisioned the ultimate oblivion of his work: he had never had a true book published in his lifetime (aside, perhaps, from the crudely issued The Shadow over Innsmouth [1936]), and his stories, essays, and poems were scattered in a bewildering number of amateur or pulp magazines.I can never remember where I’ve read what when it comes to things like biographical details, so I can’t remember where I got the thing about seventy copies now.I suppose one problem of being a writer is that, unlike with music, there are so very few people who actually go out of their way to look for something different. The vast bulk of readers – by far the majority – simply read what they’re told to. It’s as if all music lovers, with the exception of one in 10,000, simply listened to Beyonce, Coldplay or, for the real chin-strokers, to Pink Floyd. I remember reading the opening page of Vernon God Little, for instance, and being completely unimpressed, and just thinking, well, yes, this is the kind of thing that people would think is ‘different’, just as Coldplay would be ‘different’ if you’d been listening to Beyonce all your life. Anyway, I’ve always, since I was very young, had this strange desire to find something different, some strange, mysterious atmosphere, some unknown flavour, some buried Carthaginian wall. It was that desire, for instance, that led me to send off for a record by a band called Celtic Frost, whose music I had never heard. They sounded mysterious and grim to me, and my curiosity was repaid. Very often my curiosity has not been repaid, but I’m glad for the few times it has been. And I am still searching for strange and mysterious atmospheres, and writing stories for those engaged in a similar quest.”I suggest you cheer yourself up with the new Sparks album ‘Exotic Creatures of the Deep’. I’m currently working my way through their marathon performances of all their songs from all 21 albums at the Carling Academy in Islington.”I might do that, but it won’t be immediately. I don’t know when next I shall venture from this valley to the place beyond where there are shops. Even the nearby village has no traffic with such things as CDs.
“I think about it somtimes, and I wonder why I still blogging… I feel frustrated when I write something is really important and I passed hours to write it well, and nobody go there and comment. Specially when I do those ridiculous posts about ridiculous stuff and seems that everybody go there and comment.People have an stupid preference about dumb stuff.”Yes, I think so. I think that’s the general experience of creativity. Peculiar, really. I think blogging has brought to a great many people a taste of the experience of being a writer. In fact, you get more attention, in a way, writing a blog than you do writing books. Still, there’s something about the private experience of ‘a book’ that still draws me. Anyway, I do sympathise.
Yes, I agree with you about the experience of creativity for a blog. But I dont understand why people prefere the stupid posts to an interesting one.
“But I dont understand why people prefere the stupid posts to an interesting one.”Why did they make a ‘live action’ Scooby Doo film? I’m afraid life is full of mysteries. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m complaining about in this blog entry. I suppose it was a glass half-empty moment. There are people who appreciate my writing, and, naturally, I appreciate them. All of them. If you’re reading this, that means YOU.
I’m glad to read it. And it’s true, I appreciate indeed. I’m always coming back here.Thank you.
Thank you.