Becoming aware of publishing’s place in modern culture is important
Bernadine Evaristo’s short story A Matter of Timing (2008) is an ironic commentary on the heritage industry and the British’s obsession with ‘all things past and ancient’. Although over 16 years old as a published piece, it’s still interesting to examine for a number of reasons. Set in a mythical future, it imagines how a Chinese Republic might have colonised Britain and imprisoned its king (Charles III) in a zoo-like cage, where people can gawp at him obliviously going about his business. They have also put many British objects such as Stonehenge, Big Ben and lots of CCTV cameras in various exhibits. The twist at the end of the story is that tucked away from the vast Exhibition of Britain is another cage which is rarely visited and contains Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, spiritual and political leader of the country of Tibet. The sign outside his cage reads:
“Enemy of the Republic.”
In some senses, the story is a critique on what cultures celebrate in the form of exhibitions, zoos, museums, galleries and publications — and what they do not. Mainstream publishing often trumpets the prevailing hegemony of a culture, particularly in authoritarian, state-controlled jurisdictions. Writers who publish work which is critical of powerful, wealthy people and institutions, even if they might have evidence and justice on their side, are increasingly under attack.
Yet, it is clear that publishers play a vital role in making the world a safer and better place. For example, the Nobel Peace prize was awarded in 2020 to Maria Ressa co-founded Rappler, the top digital only news site that is leading the fight for press freedom in the Philippines.
Creative writing has an important part to play in promoting social justice, empathy, collaboration and mental wellbeing in many spheres. In one area, nature writing and eco-justice, there are many fascinating websites and publications such as Dark Mountain and the Willowherb Review which place an emphasis upon poetry, short stories and other types of creative writing.
Reflective points: The Evaristo short story cited above is over 16 years old, has it lasted as a piece of literature? How comfortably does it sit on the Guardian’s archived website?
Knowledge of publishing can help writer’s mental health
There is a long history of many writers made ill by the publishing process, of being outrageously exploited or ignored. As Westbook and Ryan point out in Beyond craft : an anti-handbook for creative writers many creative writing courses do not actually show writers how the publishing industry works. Rather, as they illustrate, there is an overly obsessive focus upon ‘craft’ in such courses, and this presumption that if a writer hones their craft sufficiently, they will be published. However, this may not happen. Some of the most well-known books from Golding’s Lord of the Flies to the first Harry Potter novel were rejected by publishers many, many times.
Writers need to understand this and develop resilience to withstand the rejection that can come. They need to be able to plan their lives so that they can live and thrive and also be able to write. They need space and time to do this. Understanding how the publishing industry works can assist with this.
Reflective points: should learning about publishing work in all its forms be part of every writer’s education? What do writers of different types need to know about publishing?
Writers can sharpen their writing by learning how books are published
There are now many ways of publishing books. As Westbrook and Ryan show, creative writing pedagogies have lagged behind literary theory in terms of understanding how writing and reading work. Their ‘anti-handbook’ explores the pivotal theoretical concept of Roland Barthes’ The Death of the Author (in their section Implicit Collaboration Part II: Writers, Readers, and Role-Play) and argue that the notion of the isolated author who is in control of the meaning of their work is an illusion. They look at Stanley Fish’s Reader Response theory which, in part, was part of the ‘Death of the Author’ zeitgeist in the 1960s and 70s, and show that the meaning of any text, not just literary ones, is agreed collectively by communities of readers, and that personal interpretation of texts can be just as valid as communal ones. Westbrook and Ryan write:
writers are readers too, and writers generate texts in the hopes of participating in ongoing conversations in one or more interpretive communities. For example, when a new mystery author publishes her first novel, she hopes that mystery readers will recognize her work as a valuable contribution to the genre and will interpret it as such (Implicit Collaboration Part II: Writers, Readers, and Role-Play section: 2020)
They go on to discuss in their next chapter, Making Collaboration Explicit: Co-Creating With Actual Others (86-106) how iconic texts like T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland and Raymond Carver’s short stories, creative writing which is often held as evidence of sole authorial genius, were, in fact, the products of deep collaboration. Perhaps most interestingly, they explore the publication of a multilingual poetry anthology which highlighted the plight of the Hazara people, a victimised minority in Afghanistan. They show how online and print technologies can be mobilised to foreground vital issues through the medium of creative writing.
Reflective points: why is there such a cult of the individual writer? Remember, collaborative authors can’t win competitions/prizes usually. However, in some fields, such as academia, collaborative writing is very much encouraged and, to an extent, rewarded. Reflect upon how the concept of the ‘death of the author’ makes you rethink the role of the writer and the ways writers are published.
Writers can learn to game the system?
Before writers can game an imperfect publishing system, I suggest they need a few things in place:
- A robust creative/critical practice which is healing for them, regardless of their literary or monetary success. A belief in the intrinsic value of writing in itself.
- A knowledge of the publishing industry; its benefits and its pitfalls, the way it can exploit and the ways in which its practices such as editing work, communicating powerfully and imaginatively to specific audiences can be utilised.
- A theoretical understanding of how reading and writing works: that there is no such thing as a literary individual genius, that texts have no meaning without readers, that collaboration can often produce the most effective writing.
Bearing these points in mind, writers can produce amazing work, and have an impact. In a sense, they need to create like writers, to think like teachers, and act like publishers. They need to be writers-teachers-publishers. Which actually, many writers are without realising it.
Above all, writers need to follow their passions imaginatively, and then take a step back and ask some vital questions, to rephrase similar questions I asked in a previous blog:
- What audiences might benefit or enjoy reading my work?
- What work could I produce to communicate with audiences I am interested in?
- Who could I work with to achieve my goals?
- What specific SMART targets could I set to make my vision a reality?
In a sense, these are questions that artists from William Blake (1757-1827) to the Hazara poets have asked themselves. The writer-teacher-publisher is a dreamer, an instructor and an activist, in the sense they mobilise groups of people to publish work which they deem is important.
Reflective points: how might you develop your own strategy of writing, teaching and publishing?
Can publishing aid creativity and innovation?
The short answer to this question is yes. But it is ‘yes’ with all the caveats listed in this article. Publishing can become restrictive, propagandist and pointless if writers are not constantly in touch with their own creative wellsprings, and working with communities or groups of people who are nurturing and share common values. As Evaristo warns us in the aforementioned devastating short story, it is all too easy to become an apologist for a corrupt regime. To avoid this, the writer-teacher-publisher needs to be constantly questioning a culture’s implicit assumptions and its so-called ‘common sense’ through their work.
Reflective points: what questions do you have in the light of this article?
References
Westbrook, S. and Ryan, J. (2020) Beyond craft : an anti-handbook for creative writers. London: Bloomsbury Academic.