Celebrating a rare author payday
Much of Rocky Mountain West is celebrating the success of one of its own authors, David Wroblewski of Boulder, Colorado.
I have not yet read “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle,” but I too am looking forward to it, in part because the structure-junkie in me is very intrigued by the way Wroblewski in this interview compares a novel to a piece of software, and in this interview compares it to a machine:
Can you tell that he’s been working for hi-tech companies to pay the bills while writing? (It’s not such a bad life.)
But I’d also like to add a counterpoint to the Wroblewski celebration, in the form of a link to a less-happy author.
Mary Scriver’s lament reminds me of another woman of a certain age who’d moved to rural Montana to write, and as times toughened hoped that her book would bring her enough money to afford some of the basic luxuries her neighbors took for granted. But in Caroline Lockhart’s case, she really should have known better -- by the time she was pinning these hopes on “Old West - and New” she’d already published six less-than-lucrative novels.
By the way, that was in 1933 -- it's hard to argue that for authors, times were once easier.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
I have not yet read “The Story of Edgar Sawtelle,” but I too am looking forward to it, in part because the structure-junkie in me is very intrigued by the way Wroblewski in this interview compares a novel to a piece of software, and in this interview compares it to a machine:
I started the novel and realized I didn't know how they worked as drama machines, how you held a story that long together without having it slide apart,
Can you tell that he’s been working for hi-tech companies to pay the bills while writing? (It’s not such a bad life.)
But I’d also like to add a counterpoint to the Wroblewski celebration, in the form of a link to a less-happy author.
Another author came to visit and kindly explained to me what I sort of knew but had been steadily denying: “Bronze Inside and Out” will not make any money for me. Any. … I can no longer say to myself, “when the big check comes I’ll get the pickup fixed” or “the shower fixed” or “my teeth fixed.” I mean, when these things become intolerable, what WILL I do?
Mary Scriver’s lament reminds me of another woman of a certain age who’d moved to rural Montana to write, and as times toughened hoped that her book would bring her enough money to afford some of the basic luxuries her neighbors took for granted. But in Caroline Lockhart’s case, she really should have known better -- by the time she was pinning these hopes on “Old West - and New” she’d already published six less-than-lucrative novels.
By the way, that was in 1933 -- it's hard to argue that for authors, times were once easier.
I'm always interested in feedback, via info at johnclaytonbooks dot com
Labels: publishing realities
