Mean Mondays: Semantic Help
A lot of terms get thrown around in this literary world, and people get confused. The following guide shall clarify once and for all the meaning of these terms.
“Sell out” vs. “Sold out”
‘Sold out’ means that the inventory of a book has been depleted, which is generally considered a good thing. It means that ‘the public’ likes you, and that your voice is ‘evocative’ and perhaps even ‘consequentially irrevocable.’ If you make 3 chapbooks and they ‘sold out’ to your mom, roommate, and best friend, your voice is not consequentially irrevocable, but a faint whine in the distance. ‘Sell out’ is a word less successful people use to denote someone who has experienced more success. This term implicates that the ‘sell out’ is a morally deficient person who, instead of the noble march towards truth (i.e. incomprehensible manuscripts), has opted to reap the rewards of a populist/philistine mentality (i.e. comprehensible manuscripts).
“Friends” vs. “Real Friends”
‘Friends’ is what you call somebody you don’t know who has contacted you by email, instant message, or via blog comments. The hyper-mediated ‘online’ experience of these friendships often feel better than real friendships, because in the latter, one has to deal with body odor, dandruff, and other aggravating physiological vicinities. It’s like porn vs. actual sex. Online friends are photoshopped, a blank canvas of fantasy.
“Upload” vs. “Load”
‘Upload’ is to save a file (jpeg, gif, doc, mpeg, etc) onto a server so that others can retrieve it either by ‘downloading’ it, or simply viewing it as an embedded file in a browser. “Load” functions as a prefix or suffix, as in ‘load of shit’ or ‘you are such a fat load’ (respectively). Keep in mind, overlaps do happen: A ‘fat load of shit’ often ‘uploads’ word docs into submission engines while emo music plays in the background. There is no hope for you.
“Editor” vs. “Dickwad”
I am an avid (rabid?) submitter. Once I write a story (often before proof-reading) I ‘blast’ it out to six or so journals. This is the result of a rare mixture of shamelessness, boredom, and narcissism. Now and then, 3 months later, an ‘editor’ writes back and says things like “the story doesn’t go anywhere, you are a mere stylist,” or worse, “thank you for your submission, but due to the large amount of submissions we get, we only had time to write this cruel and condescending letter.” A ‘dickwad’ is a ‘wad’ of something (usually semen-saturated toilet paper) which is dry-crusted to said ‘dick’ in a non-aesthetically compelling fashion. It is often difficult to distinguish an ‘editor’ and a ‘dickwad.’
“Bio” vs. “Autobiography”
A ‘bio’ should be about 2 or 3 lines. It should include five or less publications, the geographic location of the writer, and a link to a website. It is okay, however uninteresting, to include the names of children, pets, and spouses. An ‘autobiography’ is about 400 pages, detailing every small minutia of your desperate-for-fame life. When you include your ‘bio’ with a submission or publication, be sure to include your ‘bio’ and not your ‘autobiography.’
“Nepotism” vs. “Networking”
‘Nepotism’ is when your father or uncle (it’s a patriarchal term, hence the gender bias) uses his leverage within an institution to either secure a position or procure a benefit/material to you within said institution. For example, that Trump Jr. is the Vice President of Trump Corporation is an example of nepotism. Paris Hilton, while her funds are derived from the Hilton Enterprise, is not a nepotist as much as a cunt. ‘Networking’ is contemporary nepotism without the genealogy. For example, that I am a contributing writer for this pale green blog is an example of ‘networking.’
this morning in breathless, endless, pointless Tao Lin coverage
If you don’t already know from having seen it on his own blog (where I found it), you might or might not be interested to know that a person named P.H. Madore has posted something he calls 8,794 Rambling Words On Tao Lin. I don’t know what it is about Tao that somehow, simply by existing in the world, he is able to bring out the stupid in otherwise reasonable people–or else to bring out the stupid people into otherwise reasonable discourse.
I’m always in the tank for Tao’s writing, and I’m usually in support of whatever bizarre culture-jam or e-bay auction or stunt he’s got going on, but man–his super-fans are just some of the most irritating fucking people you’ll ever encounter.
As soon as I saw that Part One of this post was entitled “Half-Assed Introductory Words,” I started yawning. I can’t stand it when people start out by telling me what a piece of crap the thing I’m about to read is. Why do so many writers do this?
I thought to myself, who is P.H. Madore? So I skipped the next 8790 words, and went down to his bio note, which reads >>P. H. Madore was once a finalist in Riot Lit’s novel contest. That novel sucked, but you can read it and other stuff through his website, freemadore.<< More self-abuse. How charming. Also, I’m sure Riot Lit (whatever that is) will be thrilled to know that the novel they almost published “sucked,” though in all fairness to Madore, it probably did, which in turn begs the question: why would anyone want to read it? It would be easy–perhaps, too easy–to read this bio solely through the lens of S-F#1, pictured above. But friends, before you jump to hasty conclusions, consider another option:
Anyway, the rest of the post is a lot of transcribed g-chats, emails between Madore and Tao, categorically idiotic assertions such as “Tao Lin is a better artist than Andy Warhol,” and a section on a dozen writers who Madore considers Tao Lin “followers.” “[M]ight be you can count me among them,” he writes. Good company! A few lines down, he tells the followers not to lose heart, because “[a]rticles like this will be written about each of them one day…” Don’t worry Gene Morgan, everyone grows at their own special pace! Keep drinking milk! You too, Brandon Scott Gorrell!
If I had to identify one truly, unimpeachably excellent thing about this post, it would be that somewhere in the middle of it there’s a link to this picture:
Don’t worry, Ellen Kennedy! Even though P.H. Madore ranks you with the other followers, he knows that you’ve got your “own things going on.”
FIRST EVER HTMLGIANT LITERARY CONTEST (NO ENTRY FEE)
Friends, this picture was provided to us by an anonymous friend of mine, who is an excellent and well-known publisher. S/he forwarded it to me yesterday, with the following message appended: >>this girl made fun of me in high school (pink dress)<<.
For the first ever HTMLGiant literary contest, you are invited to write an original piece of literature inspired by this photograph. Poetry, prose & indeterminate forms are all acceptable. Feel free to simply provide a caption, or to produce a short-short up to, say, 300 words. Leave your entries in the comments section of this post.
My anonymous friend will judge, and it will be up to him/her what–if anything–the winner receives.
Mean Monday: Christy Call Talks Shit About(3) the MFA in Creative Writing (for personal reasons)
This conversation did no go as I ‘hoped’ it would. I wanted Christy to talk shit about people who talk shit about MFA programs, but instead she just talked shit about MFA programs. She is hard to control, I admit.
Enjoy, I guess:
me: what should we talk about next?Chris: hmmi dont know/me: mfa programs?poeple who make fun of mfa programs?Chris: that sounds goodor programs that pretend to be mfa programs but arentlike my programthat now has an mfa programme: ?oh rightthey faked you outChris: haha yafake out!me: fake out!now give us your moenyagainChris: lots of itme: all of it
The situation at her university is this: she is enrolled in an MA program in creative writing, but the university has just started an MFA program very recently. I believe the MA program is in the continuing education department or something and requires less credits in order to complete the degree.
So, what do people think? Comment on stuff or something: talk shit about the MFA or talk shit about the shit-talkers. Complain about how boring such a discussion really is. Post recipes. I don’t know. Don’t do anything.
What tattoos do people have?
Two Modest Proposals
I think these new rules should be enstated, on HTMLGiant if nowhere else. They both have to do with terms we use and how we use them.
THE FIRST.
From this day forward, if you want to use the term SELLING OUT, you must needs be able to identify
(a) what is being sold out,
(b) to whom it is being sold, and
(c) what you believe the sale garners the seller.
If you don’t know all three of those things, or aren’t prepared to defend your choices, then you should stop talking/typing right now.
THE SECOND.
I think the terms “innovative” and “avant-garde” and “experimental” writing are often just code for one of two things. The first is “non/anti-narrative”–which are both fine, if that’s what you’re into, but why not just say so? The other thing those words are often code for is “this bullshit I cranked out in 20 minutes and am going to start submitting as-is, and I guess one of these fourth-rate online lit journals is bound to pick it up.” (I think a lot of writers today go through a phase where they do shit like this—it’s a function of the age we live in, when submitting is usually one-click free, and every third person with a blog claims to be a “review” of some kind or other. The question is whether you grow out of it. And just to prove that this is the voice of bitter experience speaking, rather than a claim for my own intrinsic betterness or intelligence, I invite you to go search for the stuff I published a few years ago in Mad Hatters Review. Just don’t tell me about it after.)
Anyway, from now on, if you want to describe writing as:
“innovative” – I want you to be able to tell me in plain English what exactly is being innovated. It doesn’t need to be an exhaustive critical essay. A simple, “I think this opens up the possibility of ____ and/or shows a new innovation in the field of _______ literature” will do fine. In college I took a literature course which examined Marilynne Robinson’s innovative use of spaces–especially the domestic space–in her novel Housekeeping. My teacher also mentioned that the book actually includes a neologism- the word “lucifactions,” used to describe light on water, in the scene where the girls are out on the lake.
“experimental” – you should be able to describe the experiment. “I wrote this to see if I could fabricate the feeling of a Burroughs cut-up without writing a text and cutting it up, so I made up three storylines and forced myself to switch off between them mid-sentence, twice a paragraph.” It also works when you’re talking about somebody else’s writing. “Dennis Cooper said that one of the ‘rules’ for his novel, Try was that there had to be action in every single moment of the book.”
“avant-garde” – is a military term, which literally means “advance guard.” As Donald Barthelme once pointed out, the function of an advance guard is to protect the middle. It would probably be useful, when thinking of things that are avant-garde, to think of them in this way. What body are they advancing out of? What middle is it that they (or you) are protecting?
I’m not saying every use of these terms has to come with an attached explanation. I’m just saying these are things you should think about when deciding whether—and how—to deploy them. If you were also capable of discussing your thought process in conversation, well that would just be jimmies on the sundae, wouldn’t it?
Mean Monday: Christy Call Talks Shit About(2) Irish Literature
We have had no real ‘good’ gchats recently, so I must post this (and invite you to comment on the Wells Tower thread – things are trying to happen there). It’s not real shit-talking, I guess.
Does anyone know of good irish literature I can read, aside from the obvious? At Swim-Two-Birds is sitting on my shelf right now. Should I read that?
Okay, our discussion of Irish Literature:
me: dang olwhat aboutoktalk aboutirish literatureno that is dumbChris: irish literature?me: ignora that
Mean Monday: Christy Call Talks Shit About(1) Ya’ll
I’ve decided to do an intermittent feature for Mean Monday based on the gchats that my sister and I have about stuff. I will select a small excerpt of our conversation, remove it completely out of context, change words around, and then post it for your enjoyment.
If anyone has any requests or topics about which they would like my sister and me to chat, please email me or post in the comments section. We will do our best to have a discussion about it at some point in the future.
Ok, so here is the first entry.
Christy Call on the quality of the posts here at HTMLGIANT (with apologies to Sam Pink, whose chapbook I got in the mail a few weeks ago and read from cover to cover without stopping it was so good it hurt me a lot and then I couldn’t function for the rest of the evening):
some is ok, some is ok++reallyi sitll dont like sam pinkah well
Mean Mondays: Trailer Trash
Movies of books have a way of retro-actively hijacking the memory, or sealed conception, of a book in one’s mind. If fiction’s merit is the ability to collaborate with the imaginations of its readers, then film productions of movies ruin it.
Though I have not seen Revolutionary Road (forthcoming, 2009), Leonardo DiCaprio will forever replace the image I had in my head of Frank Wheeler. I had imagined him as a dour-faced bearded Richard Yates type of man, and yet I will most likely see the movie—in some sick masochistic way to brine in my own indignation. I guarantee you the movie will focus on infidelity (with bonus tit scene(s) of Wheeler’s secretary/mistress), and less (if any) on what the book seemed for me to be about, namely, Frank’s irrevocable self-loathing and self-pity.
John Krasinski (of The Office fame) has written a screenplay for Brief Interviews with Hideous Men (in post-production), the late D.F. Wallace’s exploration into crass sexually-driven male vernacular, sorta like lowbrow stream o’ consciousness via a plumber or taxi driver. Here’s the catch: instead of conveying the fragmented way each ‘entry’ was written—and its existential narrative ‘incompleteness,’ Krasinski provides us a plot arc: a female graduate student, recently broken-up with her boyfriend, interviews men in order to understand their behavior. Now, I wasn’t looking for an epiphany—but Jesus—does everything have to be about a man/woman?
In porn, there are many categories: man/woman; man/man; woman/woman; woman/horse; woman/dog; man/car exhaust pipe; cartoon character/‘furry’; etc. (for the records, I only enjoy the first category). The film industry would do good to learn from porn. Don’t worry about love, just try to make it interesting, even if it involves a gallon of horse emission.
There ought to be a White List of books that it is illegal to adapt into film, because I’m so afraid one day I’m going to see Holden Caulfield on the big screen, hanging out with his girlfriend in Central Park.
MEAN MONDAY: Aggressive Suitor
Got a special email last night from some dude, titled ‘Yeah, you.’ Uh oh.
Here’s what it had to say:
What’s up with your dead dick website? The motherfucker is cut-off on the left. Were you cum drunk when you designed it? Anyway dildo breath, here it is with your fake ass tough talk; What the piss is the pay for publication in your magazine? Most lit mags list it, why should I need to contact you about it? List it, Goddamn it! Do it NOW!! I write stories that make Hemingway, Fitzgerald and others of their ilk look like candy asses, suckling at their momma’s tit. I don’t have time to be coddling dirt dumb editors who can’t even layout a guidelines page – wake the fuck up!!
Christopher Roberts
I was able to find one online piece of work by Christopher Roberts, who writes stories that make Hemingway, Fitzgerald and others of their ilk look like candy asses, which is an an essay criticizing the closed-mindedness of the New Yorker (ironically at 3:AM Magazine). Bone crushing.
I’m not sure which way I offended Mr. Roberts, as I haven’t been able to link him to any of the journals I criticized the design of during Mean Week.
I did find him stickin’ it to the man from the inside on some writer’s publicity group called writers.net. Here’s his profile:
Chris Roberts
Agent: Writers net sucks
Brooklyn, New York, United StatesEmail: croberts7@nyc.rr.com
I live to run Writers net out of business – it’s run by a bunch of blowjobs.
Interests: Serial Killing.
Published writer: Yes
Freelance: No
Salivatory.
Anyway, to answer your question, dude, you must not have paid close enough attention to the ‘guidelines’ on our site (I assume you are talking about No Colony, though I’m not quite sure how websites can be ‘cut off on the left,’ does your monitor load backwards?) but let me point you to this thing right here on the front page:
We accept cash, credit, money orders, New Yorker subscriptions, and some forms of primitive coin or manual stimulation.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way back to quivering in the vast throes of impending serial-killer-narrative innovation.
Good luck!
Mean Monday: Bukowski dick
God, Bukowski. Did that guy really ever have to exist? I think it was funny and ‘connective’ as a 17 year old seeing books with titles like ‘sometimes you get so alone it just makes sense’ or whatever permutation of that title was on that book cover. But like Nirvana to rock music, an ‘innovator’ who makes a whole previously quieter genre big bucks famous, Bukowski is probably more responsible for boring, retarded writing than, well, anybody maybe, except for Thoreau?
Nah, it’s Bukowski.
Case in Point: this dude on 3:am. 3AM is confusing in that they seem split between interesting, weird writing (mostly culled by Ellen and Tao) and the UK grime / ‘Brutalist’ garbage, which is often like the ULA junior.
I think about the time I was offered coke at college and replied that I wasn’t thirsty. When a taxi-driver asked if I liked ‘bud’ and I thought he meant Budweiser.
I think I wrote something a joke like this when I was 17, before I’d tried beer.
This set of ‘poems’ newly published on 3AM, I’m really not sure who thought this would be interesting, maybe they know their market or something, but ruminations on reality TV, cokeheads, and bad parents, well, hrm, those are all things that are hard to talk about well probably, and especially not in the manner of Dr. B.
Add that the 3:AM dude looks like Billy Corgan on meth, and yip. But that’s below the belt.
One day they will publish a selected works of Bukowski that will be worth buying, as 1 in 18 of his poems will sometimes knock you on your ass, but otherwise, well bub, thanks a lot.