I've read the Harlan Ellison essay "Xenogensis" and was certainly appalled at many of the demands members of fandom have made on writers, and crimes "fans" have committed against them. Real crimes, like pulling knives and molesting children. Though honestly, in some of the cases Ellison cites, it was just a matter of writer-folks carrying on a lot.
I occasionally run a critique service. And sometimes, when people out of the blue ask me to read one of their stories for free, I do. So what? I know tons of writers who carry on and on about how they cannot read manuscripts, because they're so so busy and it's so so legally dubious....but, really, who the hell cares? It's easy enough to say no privately if you can't be bothered.
Just now a kid emailed me asking for a long interview about the changes in SF and fantasy novel prose over the last fifty years. This is also apparently supposed to be a big deal—the kid! needs help! with his hoooomework! And he's a stranger. So what?!
These days there are issues about blog comments. People leave blog comments! Some of them are nasty! Not everyone in the world agrees with me! Noooooooo. And then there are reviews. Did you know that unlicensed bloggers sometimes review stories and books? Indeed, sometimes they review portions of stories and books. That's like taking a sip of milk and declaring the whole gallon sour without gulping it all down first. Criminal, criminal!
This comes to mind partially because I just had occasion to re-read James Tiptree, Jr.: The Double Life of Alice B. Sheldon. Great book, very interesting. The subject, Sheldon, was prone to depression and abused prescription drugs for years and years. Perhaps that is why the worst parts of the book are the excerpts from Sheldon's wide-ranging correspondence. In her letters she was cloying, annoying, ostentatious, and obnoxious—and chockful of endless lengthy compound sentences reciting complaints about writing, other people, herself, etc. The very last person one would want to be stuck in an elevator with, as she appeared to pre-write zingers and bons mots in case someone with ears or eyes came in to striking distance. She needed a shaking.
Writing and the immediate ancillary activities are the best, most fun, thing in the world. Late checks, those are annoying. Conglomeratization, extremely annoying. Bad writers making a zillion dollars, also annoying. "Oh God, someone out there wants to say something to me!" and "I have things to do!!" Not annoying.
I occasionally run a critique service. And sometimes, when people out of the blue ask me to read one of their stories for free, I do. So what? I know tons of writers who carry on and on about how they cannot read manuscripts, because they're so so busy and it's so so legally dubious....but, really, who the hell cares? It's easy enough to say no privately if you can't be bothered.
Just now a kid emailed me asking for a long interview about the changes in SF and fantasy novel prose over the last fifty years. This is also apparently supposed to be a big deal—the kid! needs help! with his hoooomework! And he's a stranger. So what?!
These days there are issues about blog comments. People leave blog comments! Some of them are nasty! Not everyone in the world agrees with me! Noooooooo. And then there are reviews. Did you know that unlicensed bloggers sometimes review stories and books? Indeed, sometimes they review portions of stories and books. That's like taking a sip of milk and declaring the whole gallon sour without gulping it all down first. Criminal, criminal!
This comes to mind partially because I just had occasion to re-read James Tiptree, Jr.: The Double Life of Alice B. Sheldon. Great book, very interesting. The subject, Sheldon, was prone to depression and abused prescription drugs for years and years. Perhaps that is why the worst parts of the book are the excerpts from Sheldon's wide-ranging correspondence. In her letters she was cloying, annoying, ostentatious, and obnoxious—and chockful of endless lengthy compound sentences reciting complaints about writing, other people, herself, etc. The very last person one would want to be stuck in an elevator with, as she appeared to pre-write zingers and bons mots in case someone with ears or eyes came in to striking distance. She needed a shaking.
Writing and the immediate ancillary activities are the best, most fun, thing in the world. Late checks, those are annoying. Conglomeratization, extremely annoying. Bad writers making a zillion dollars, also annoying. "Oh God, someone out there wants to say something to me!" and "I have things to do!!" Not annoying.