If so, please consider clicking the above link and liking the Notes post—leave a comment or even share within your own community. Poetry lives on in the minds of hearts of writers, it breathes on the page.
Your voice can be heard among the starry illuminations, howling at the moon.
Good points. Interesting take. Copies. Yes. The democratization of voices now being endlessly platformed online. Twenty years ago everyone seemed to think that was a great idea. Generally I still think it is. But as Sartre discussed: Freedom comes with a price. There are a lot of wannabes and noxious A-holes and polarized pandering to both sides online. Everyone feels they’re an expert now. Everyone’s a writer. Everyone’s a philosopher. Which in a sense means no one is. I wonder if humans can actually *handle* freedom to this degree, or if what we’re witnessing are the early stages of civilization decline. AI will change everything anyway.
Thank you Michael! There is more than a little truth to the Churchill quote that everybody thinks they're in favor of democracy until they spend five minutes talking to a voter - and same for the era of unfiltered expression. I guess I feel that I 'should' be in favor of this or 'have to be.' But understand that it leads to a mess-and-a-half.
Thank you Adrian! Your Substack looks very interesting btw. I think I disagree with the creativity-is-reproduction argument? - but I'd have to think about it more. There's a forthcoming piece by Bill Deresiewicz that really takes it apart. My inclination is that true creativity is lodged in a person's soul and that the soul is basically a singular entity. And mimetics strips away something very important and just places all ideas in some sort of two-dimensional copyable space but without regard to the experiential place that the ideas are really coming from. But what do you think? Are you a mimeticist or playing devil's advocate at the moment?
Thanks, Sam. Appreciate the drill-down and your reflections as well.
Looks like we’re flying in the same flock so sense this may just be fine pluming.
Wholeheartedly agree that you have to keep your craft clear of the reproduction monster. If you feed that already overfed beast, you shouldn’t be surprised by the steaming gifts it’ll leave all over your worktop.
I suppose all genuine art is an aggregation of communal voice since it’s communitarian or dialogic by nature. I would want to frame any ideas of uniqueness and creativity inside this.
As a Christian fiction writer, I’m not trying to escape the stellar work of others. My ‘uniqueness’ will unfold in communion with their gentle guidance. But this will only ever be a pale echo of an incomparably greater and more ancient voice.
Fear I may be gaggling now. Does this make any sense?
As always, I appreciate the smart take on history here, Sam. We certainly do seem to be in a new cultural moment. I hear what you're saying about the game of convincing someone in power -- a publishing elite -- to distribute your work. Writers have moaned about rejection for years, and that is one of the byproducts of curation. But there is another side to it. I got hooked on writing initially because it seemed magical that I could take my experiences in rural Montana and make them meaningful to a stranger. I've also had some really good experiences with editors. And I think my ideal situation would be that kind of partnership, where I do what I do best and an editor helps it rise to another level. This is the best side of curation -- and one might argue that it actually enhances creativity. Consider, for instance, the myth of Willa Cather as the genius sprung fully formed from the plains. My friend Melissa Homestead has a great book on Cather's collaboration with her lifelong partner, Edith Lewis. You can see Lewis's handwritten edits on the typescripts of Cather's novels -- and they are often profound changes to the text. So I think there are tradeoffs when we try to be creators in isolation, or when our creative process is sheltered from the editorial process.
Hey Josh, yeah those are really fair points. I guess anything I share here is essentially an argument that I'm having with myself - so I'm never completely convinced by anything I write! I guess where I'm coming from is that, looking back on how I thought about writing throughout my adolescence and 20s, I was pretty in thrall to the idea of publishing - and believed almost implicitly that anything published represented the optimization of what a writer wanted to do. But then as I got a bit older and had more of a sense for how the sausages get made, I tended to feel that the process of intensive curation benefited industries more than they benefited an author. So now I'm all about doing it alone and treating work as an evolving-entity rather than as perfectible craft, but that has more to do with life circumstances and available technologies rather than really thinking that one approach is 'better' than another. As you know, I'm a big partisan at the moment of Substack and that general approach - but that could change again!
Well, to argue with myself... I've published work in over twenty literary magazines (maybe over thirty by now), and I have never once received a personal response from a reader. In fact, if my own reading habits are any measure, there are a lot of people who publish in literary magazines who don't subscribe to them--or don't read them closely if they do subscribe. In that case, it's a pretty hollow transaction, like hooking up with someone on Tinder and then moving on to the next date. The fear on Substack is that you're writing into the void, and I know you've struggled a bit with that sense of silence in response to your fiction. I am not convinced that many fiction writers are having much luck paywalling their serialized novels -- but it would be interesting to see stats about engagement with different genres on Substack. Anyway, there is a more direct sense of being heard, of reaching people on Substack, which strikes closer to the heart of creativity than an impersonal status bump by a gatekeeper whom you'll never meet or have a relationship with. Perhaps one must decide not to care about the response as much as the creative process...and to take what response one gets gratefully in any case.
Some people are like that, but I don't think it's accurate to reduce the production of physical books to a fetish. Eternally revised creativity on a platform is only one direction this can go in: the opposite direction is censorship. Physical books are the only way to preserve something as it is from eternal censorship. Especially as we are not fully in control: Substack could change its approach and censor views it disagrees with, and we'd be powerless to stop them.
Physical books will come back, in the distant future. Once we run out of rare earth minerals and the Internet becomes less accessible to us due to a lack of computer parts. (and, subsequently, computers)
In any case, a lot to think about. These are huge forces at work in society, and being able to assess so much at the macro level is a dying art. Glad you're able to keep that art alive.
That's a really good point. And to be fair, I've shifted dramatically in the last couple of years to reading anything longer in hard copy as opposed to online. I think that as a culture we haven't quite dealt with what's probably about to happen - that 'cloud' storage is largely based on the survival of pretty-frail companies and that some wide range of our precious digital archive may at some point in the transition of technologies simply disappear.
I don't disagree with anything you've said. At the moment, I'm pretty optimistic about what a platform like Substack represents (and grateful to it after all the babbling inanities of the Web 2.0), but it's absolutely true that the kibosh can fall again on free web expression, so it's not like the open web can just replace material culture.
Well I certainly hope Substack does not go in that direction. I'm optimistic, I haven't heard anything about Substack that would give me pause. But ideological infiltration is a real threat: Glenn Greenwald ended up here because that's basically what happened to his company. The march through the institutions, to use Gramscis phrase. It's only a matter of time before it happens to Substack. Best to utilize that freedom now, while it lasts.
Absolutely agree about cloud storage. Also if there's a world war - hopefully won't happen! - other countries no doubt have ways of attacking the electric grid. The preppers (who most probably also have survival books) will be having the last laugh as we bumble about, unable to check stuff on the internet. Unless they did overlook books: in which case we'll laugh at them! :D
Encouraging post, Sam--as I keep trying literary magazines and have hesitated to post my fiction and memoir and creative non-fiction essays here.
Fine writer and reader of Substack—we are starting a movement to get a poetry section added to the platform. Can I ask, are you with us?
https://substack.com/profile/10309929-david/note/c-15579327
If so, please consider clicking the above link and liking the Notes post—leave a comment or even share within your own community. Poetry lives on in the minds of hearts of writers, it breathes on the page.
Your voice can be heard among the starry illuminations, howling at the moon.
Thank you for your time and support.
Love and appreciation,
David
Looks great David! Thank you for the note. Glad somebody is howling at the moon!
Thanks Sam! please share your bleief in the chat section of Notes - the link - Substack are watching!
Good points. Interesting take. Copies. Yes. The democratization of voices now being endlessly platformed online. Twenty years ago everyone seemed to think that was a great idea. Generally I still think it is. But as Sartre discussed: Freedom comes with a price. There are a lot of wannabes and noxious A-holes and polarized pandering to both sides online. Everyone feels they’re an expert now. Everyone’s a writer. Everyone’s a philosopher. Which in a sense means no one is. I wonder if humans can actually *handle* freedom to this degree, or if what we’re witnessing are the early stages of civilization decline. AI will change everything anyway.
Thank you Michael! There is more than a little truth to the Churchill quote that everybody thinks they're in favor of democracy until they spend five minutes talking to a voter - and same for the era of unfiltered expression. I guess I feel that I 'should' be in favor of this or 'have to be.' But understand that it leads to a mess-and-a-half.
Best,
Sam
Though, you might also argue that creativity is simply clever reproduction: nothing new under the mimetic sun.
Thank you Adrian! Your Substack looks very interesting btw. I think I disagree with the creativity-is-reproduction argument? - but I'd have to think about it more. There's a forthcoming piece by Bill Deresiewicz that really takes it apart. My inclination is that true creativity is lodged in a person's soul and that the soul is basically a singular entity. And mimetics strips away something very important and just places all ideas in some sort of two-dimensional copyable space but without regard to the experiential place that the ideas are really coming from. But what do you think? Are you a mimeticist or playing devil's advocate at the moment?
Best,
Sam
Thanks, Sam. Appreciate the drill-down and your reflections as well.
Looks like we’re flying in the same flock so sense this may just be fine pluming.
Wholeheartedly agree that you have to keep your craft clear of the reproduction monster. If you feed that already overfed beast, you shouldn’t be surprised by the steaming gifts it’ll leave all over your worktop.
I suppose all genuine art is an aggregation of communal voice since it’s communitarian or dialogic by nature. I would want to frame any ideas of uniqueness and creativity inside this.
As a Christian fiction writer, I’m not trying to escape the stellar work of others. My ‘uniqueness’ will unfold in communion with their gentle guidance. But this will only ever be a pale echo of an incomparably greater and more ancient voice.
Fear I may be gaggling now. Does this make any sense?
As always, I appreciate the smart take on history here, Sam. We certainly do seem to be in a new cultural moment. I hear what you're saying about the game of convincing someone in power -- a publishing elite -- to distribute your work. Writers have moaned about rejection for years, and that is one of the byproducts of curation. But there is another side to it. I got hooked on writing initially because it seemed magical that I could take my experiences in rural Montana and make them meaningful to a stranger. I've also had some really good experiences with editors. And I think my ideal situation would be that kind of partnership, where I do what I do best and an editor helps it rise to another level. This is the best side of curation -- and one might argue that it actually enhances creativity. Consider, for instance, the myth of Willa Cather as the genius sprung fully formed from the plains. My friend Melissa Homestead has a great book on Cather's collaboration with her lifelong partner, Edith Lewis. You can see Lewis's handwritten edits on the typescripts of Cather's novels -- and they are often profound changes to the text. So I think there are tradeoffs when we try to be creators in isolation, or when our creative process is sheltered from the editorial process.
Hey Josh, yeah those are really fair points. I guess anything I share here is essentially an argument that I'm having with myself - so I'm never completely convinced by anything I write! I guess where I'm coming from is that, looking back on how I thought about writing throughout my adolescence and 20s, I was pretty in thrall to the idea of publishing - and believed almost implicitly that anything published represented the optimization of what a writer wanted to do. But then as I got a bit older and had more of a sense for how the sausages get made, I tended to feel that the process of intensive curation benefited industries more than they benefited an author. So now I'm all about doing it alone and treating work as an evolving-entity rather than as perfectible craft, but that has more to do with life circumstances and available technologies rather than really thinking that one approach is 'better' than another. As you know, I'm a big partisan at the moment of Substack and that general approach - but that could change again!
All best,
Sam
Well, to argue with myself... I've published work in over twenty literary magazines (maybe over thirty by now), and I have never once received a personal response from a reader. In fact, if my own reading habits are any measure, there are a lot of people who publish in literary magazines who don't subscribe to them--or don't read them closely if they do subscribe. In that case, it's a pretty hollow transaction, like hooking up with someone on Tinder and then moving on to the next date. The fear on Substack is that you're writing into the void, and I know you've struggled a bit with that sense of silence in response to your fiction. I am not convinced that many fiction writers are having much luck paywalling their serialized novels -- but it would be interesting to see stats about engagement with different genres on Substack. Anyway, there is a more direct sense of being heard, of reaching people on Substack, which strikes closer to the heart of creativity than an impersonal status bump by a gatekeeper whom you'll never meet or have a relationship with. Perhaps one must decide not to care about the response as much as the creative process...and to take what response one gets gratefully in any case.
Some people are like that, but I don't think it's accurate to reduce the production of physical books to a fetish. Eternally revised creativity on a platform is only one direction this can go in: the opposite direction is censorship. Physical books are the only way to preserve something as it is from eternal censorship. Especially as we are not fully in control: Substack could change its approach and censor views it disagrees with, and we'd be powerless to stop them.
Physical books will come back, in the distant future. Once we run out of rare earth minerals and the Internet becomes less accessible to us due to a lack of computer parts. (and, subsequently, computers)
In any case, a lot to think about. These are huge forces at work in society, and being able to assess so much at the macro level is a dying art. Glad you're able to keep that art alive.
Hey Felix,
That's a really good point. And to be fair, I've shifted dramatically in the last couple of years to reading anything longer in hard copy as opposed to online. I think that as a culture we haven't quite dealt with what's probably about to happen - that 'cloud' storage is largely based on the survival of pretty-frail companies and that some wide range of our precious digital archive may at some point in the transition of technologies simply disappear.
I don't disagree with anything you've said. At the moment, I'm pretty optimistic about what a platform like Substack represents (and grateful to it after all the babbling inanities of the Web 2.0), but it's absolutely true that the kibosh can fall again on free web expression, so it's not like the open web can just replace material culture.
- Sam
Well I certainly hope Substack does not go in that direction. I'm optimistic, I haven't heard anything about Substack that would give me pause. But ideological infiltration is a real threat: Glenn Greenwald ended up here because that's basically what happened to his company. The march through the institutions, to use Gramscis phrase. It's only a matter of time before it happens to Substack. Best to utilize that freedom now, while it lasts.
Absolutely agree about cloud storage. Also if there's a world war - hopefully won't happen! - other countries no doubt have ways of attacking the electric grid. The preppers (who most probably also have survival books) will be having the last laugh as we bumble about, unable to check stuff on the internet. Unless they did overlook books: in which case we'll laugh at them! :D