Blake Butler—
Have you ever kissed another writer’s ass or falsely bestowed praise in hopes of getting something in return or making friends? Did it work? Did it make you happy? Feel free to respond anonymously.
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Meta
Great question, Blake!
P.S. Did you get the cookies I sent you?
lol
Kissing ass doesn’t help. Anyways, most people in the position to help want other parts of their anatomies smooched.
No, but I have noticed people I don’t know friending me on Facebook because we are both writers and because I edit some things, I guess, and I can never decide how I feel about that: welcomed and loved, or used. And I do confirm them as friends despite these ambiguous feelings, which is a kind of kissing up I never used to do. Probably some writers I’ve followed or friended or whatever think the same thing of me, though I try not to do it unless I “mean it.”
I guess that’s how one finds out that they’re a success or whatnot– people start kissing their ass.
Anyone looking for attention?
I don’t think so.
Can’t really bring myself to care one way or the other about it, however.
Kiss ass, don’t kiss ass. . . does it matter? I’m more likely to not kiss ass (at least not to a writer–I’d gladly kiss ass if it meant I’d get some $$$), but those who want to: go for it.
Yeah, I mean, a little ass-kissing can be pretty nice for everyone involved. I actually honestly think I need to do more in my life. I think I would get into less trouble.
of course it works.
but sometimes, people are actually nice. sometimes, people aren’t kissing ass.
i don’t know any of those kinds of people though, untrustworthy.
rimjobs make my eyes water.
nice is a politician. it is the same thing.
i am more curious how people react to obvious ass kissing.
In general I don’t talk about well-known people’s writing at all, even if I like it, because it might seem like ass kissing.
I was just writing about a variation on this. I don’t know about ass-kissing b/c I try to be genuine in all of my interactions. But it’s funny/complicated trying to connect — in any situation, I think — b/c I get the feeling most people aren’t as straight-up in their ways of being (giving or receiving). So when I’m sincerely excited about something and I express my enthusiasm or encouragement directly to the artist, let’s say, the recipient of my effusions tends to look at me warily, but then, in person at least, said recipient usually sees that I’m being candid and everything’s cool. Online, I believe it’s a lot different, much more complicated with many more opportunities for misunderstanding and, on the flipside, disingenuousness.
Which brings me to what I was writing about and what, for me, is the bigger question: how do you go about “liking” or “sharing” stuff on the social networks and blogs that’s of genuine interest and that you want others to take notice of w/out coming off like an ingratiating prick? I guess that’s the same as being an ass kisser? The only answer I can come up with is if you’re being “real,” then it should come across, hopefully… cumulatively? But I don’t know that it does. And I can’t tell you how often I’ve called bullshit (to my offline friends) on all the “AWESOME, dude!” and “I’ll buy that!” comments I see all over the web, knowing first-hand that — sometimes — those comments are false-faced from the first word.
So… how do we connect with and/or support each other in a forthright way? (that is, if you’re not just ass-kissing — smooch smooch)
To me, kissing-ass would be giving false praise where there is none to be given, where you really DON’T like somebody’s work but say it’s great anyway, hoping to get something in return. So, no, I don’t kiss ass. I do however network, and spread the word about like-minded authors, people that blow me away, and I generally say good things in public as well as FB, Twitter, etc. if the work moves me, whether or not I get anything in return. I’m sure we all ask our writer friends for help in promoting our latest work in one way or another. Mostly I just like to turn people on to good writing, whether it is a big name, or an unknown.
I usually just talk about sports and the weather with most people regardless of wether or not they write books.
yes. i wouldn’t say “falsely bestowed praise” because i feel like i believed the praise, but i can admit to bestowing a bit more praise than i otherwise would have. then again, maybe thats not ass-kissing and is just trying to maybe open a path toward friendship with someone i admire or want to be friends with. it doesnt work for me though it seems, im still too grouchy in believing that absolute truth is more important than having connections with other people–my least favorite of my beliefs.
seems more complicated than yes or no. motivations for saying nice things about someone’s writing you don’t whole heartedly endorse can be mixed and not always entirely clear.
w/out coming off like an ingratiating prick[/cunt]
Good questions, jesus.
Sorry, but don’t effuse; it’s just too dangerous to believe moist enthusiasm. Avoid unrealistic superlatives. Keep the praise simple and short. Say ‘thanks’ without gasping or panting. Efface the sexual shine from your eyes. Smile and show your back when you’re done.
I don’t do any ass-kissing, because if those compliments are a genuine opinion of a writer, I pretty much tell every writer EXCEPT that person how much I love them/respect them/blah blah them. For example, out of my undergrad friend group of poets, I believe without an iota of self-pity that they are all better writers than I am, and I will tell everyone that except them (except for dan i guess who will read this – hi dan). If anything, I make sure not to mention their own work to the writers for fear that i will appear to be a babbling, creepily-obsessed fan.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hZ_04ybaow
Great question, Blake!
P.S. Did you get the cookies I sent you?
Hmmm… pretty sure I don’t use unrealistic superlatives. I just tell it like it is the best way I know how. And I don’t just say that’s great or whatever. I always try to provide specifics about why I’m into (or not into) something, even if it’s just a line or two. (Funny how almost no one seems to want to hear anything critical, only props.) Other times, I’m just happy for folks who are able to see projects through to the end, or who finally get published or get a great gig, that sorta thing. Ya know? Plus, I dunno if I can ever ‘efface the sexual shine from my eyes.’ I’m sexual being. That’s just the way it is. It doesn’t have to be threatening…
absolute truth? what’s that?
truth is the greatest offender.
First thing I do once I get out of bed in the morning, efface the sexual shine from my eyes.
You’ll never get the grrrls that way, man.
Just because…
http://www.knittingfactoryrecords.com/files/mp3s/fela-zombie.mp3
lol
Kissing ass doesn’t help. Anyways, most people in the position to help want other parts of their anatomies smooched.
“[S]pecifics” are good, jesus – though I think you’re exactly right about how “almost no one […] want[s] to hear anything critical, only props”. (Compliment-fishing puts you in tricky position: tell the truth about what you liked, and risk seeming obediently to kiss ass, or resist the invitation, and lie-by-omission.)
I guess a useful, though not perfect, rule of thumb would be: if it feels like it’ll communicate unintended deviousness, don’t say it. (Better that your silence be misunderstood than something you said – in this case.)
By the way, the ‘shining gaze’ I mean is not one that evinces the inner light of a “sexual being”.
When I leave a comment on the internet, like right now, I am sincere in my desire to get the author of the post wicked stoked that someone cared enough about their post to comment on it.
Most of the time when I read something I like I don’t leave a comment, because I am afraid the author will think I’m a fucking tool that is trying to ride their dick. I entered a contest for Tao Lin and left two comments on is blog, so now I’m going to intentionally not comment on his blog for at least a few months so Tao/his readers won’t form negative opinions about me. Even though I enjoy your (Blake Butler’s) blog and like/own Scorch Atlas, I have never commented on anything you have ever written because I think you will think I’m a dick.
At the same time, I hope that when the author reads my comment, they will think ‘this bro seems chill’ or ‘this dude seems legit’. Don’t really expect this to lead to ‘real friendship’ where we share a basket of fries while ditching something important to our future, but want it to lead to ‘internet friendship’, like we leave comments on each other’s posts like ‘yesh’ ‘yus’ ‘dope’ ‘fag’ or ‘nice’, then play a game on ggpo or something and talk about music from the nineties in a semi-ironic but also earnest way.
No, but I have noticed people I don’t know friending me on Facebook because we are both writers and because I edit some things, I guess, and I can never decide how I feel about that: welcomed and loved, or used. And I do confirm them as friends despite these ambiguous feelings, which is a kind of kissing up I never used to do. Probably some writers I’ve followed or friended or whatever think the same thing of me, though I try not to do it unless I “mean it.”
It kept Antigone around.
I guess that’s how one finds out that they’re a success or whatnot– people start kissing their ass.
Anyone looking for attention?
I don’t think so.
Can’t really bring myself to care one way or the other about it, however.
Kiss ass, don’t kiss ass. . . does it matter? I’m more likely to not kiss ass (at least not to a writer–I’d gladly kiss ass if it meant I’d get some $$$), but those who want to: go for it.
Oh, you’re into the Greek Way. I see. Well… I think I lean more Roman, though in the right company…
All the time. I’m rimming Dennis Cooper right now. And it’s working. He’s going to whip me when I’m done.
Yeah, I mean, a little ass-kissing can be pretty nice for everyone involved. I actually honestly think I need to do more in my life. I think I would get into less trouble.
you seem chill and legit to me. i don’t think participation = asskissing by definition. earnest fun and ups is too quickly shit on, i think. everyone assumes the worst. thanks for being ++.
into the Greek Way […] lean more Roman
Yikes. Is that Floyd shine or Frampton shine?
Oh… sheeit. Guess I need to bone up on my Greek. Yes, and yes, though. I’m with you. I just wish everyone would chill out enough to realize we’re all in this together — we’re all the same, even — and the literary slice of the cultural pie is often such a tiny morsel.
I learned a long time ago when I used to think of myself as a poet that you have to have thick skin while at the same time staying open and being sensitive to everything that lives and breathes. Truth is beauty even when it’s ugly. Mirrors are most useful when clean. If you’re not pleasing everyone, then you’re probably doing something right. Blee blee, blah blah, blee blah…
of course it works.
but sometimes, people are actually nice. sometimes, people aren’t kissing ass.
i don’t know any of those kinds of people though, untrustworthy.
It’s all good, yo. At least from where I sit.
And yeah… Nevermind…
rimjobs make my eyes water.
nice is a politician. it is the same thing.
Hands down Floyd. Shine on…
i am more curious how people react to obvious ass kissing.
In general I don’t talk about well-known people’s writing at all, even if I like it, because it might seem like ass kissing.
I was just writing about a variation on this. I don’t know about ass-kissing b/c I try to be genuine in all of my interactions. But it’s funny/complicated trying to connect — in any situation, I think — b/c I get the feeling most people aren’t as straight-up in their ways of being (giving or receiving). So when I’m sincerely excited about something and I express my enthusiasm or encouragement directly to the artist, let’s say, the recipient of my effusions tends to look at me warily, but then, in person at least, said recipient usually sees that I’m being candid and everything’s cool. Online, I believe it’s a lot different, much more complicated with many more opportunities for misunderstanding and, on the flipside, disingenuousness.
Which brings me to what I was writing about and what, for me, is the bigger question: how do you go about “liking” or “sharing” stuff on the social networks and blogs that’s of genuine interest and that you want others to take notice of w/out coming off like an ingratiating prick? I guess that’s the same as being an ass kisser? The only answer I can come up with is if you’re being “real,” then it should come across, hopefully… cumulatively? But I don’t know that it does. And I can’t tell you how often I’ve called bullshit (to my offline friends) on all the “AWESOME, dude!” and “I’ll buy that!” comments I see all over the web, knowing first-hand that — sometimes — those comments are false-faced from the first word.
So… how do we connect with and/or support each other in a forthright way? (that is, if you’re not just ass-kissing — smooch smooch)
To me, kissing-ass would be giving false praise where there is none to be given, where you really DON’T like somebody’s work but say it’s great anyway, hoping to get something in return. So, no, I don’t kiss ass. I do however network, and spread the word about like-minded authors, people that blow me away, and I generally say good things in public as well as FB, Twitter, etc. if the work moves me, whether or not I get anything in return. I’m sure we all ask our writer friends for help in promoting our latest work in one way or another. Mostly I just like to turn people on to good writing, whether it is a big name, or an unknown.
I usually just talk about sports and the weather with most people regardless of wether or not they write books.
“shine on me”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDyDz8WeiM4
yes. i wouldn’t say “falsely bestowed praise” because i feel like i believed the praise, but i can admit to bestowing a bit more praise than i otherwise would have. then again, maybe thats not ass-kissing and is just trying to maybe open a path toward friendship with someone i admire or want to be friends with. it doesnt work for me though it seems, im still too grouchy in believing that absolute truth is more important than having connections with other people–my least favorite of my beliefs.
seems more complicated than yes or no. motivations for saying nice things about someone’s writing you don’t whole heartedly endorse can be mixed and not always entirely clear.
w/out coming off like an ingratiating prick[/cunt]
Good questions, jesus.
Sorry, but don’t effuse; it’s just too dangerous to believe moist enthusiasm. Avoid unrealistic superlatives. Keep the praise simple and short. Say ‘thanks’ without gasping or panting. Efface the sexual shine from your eyes. Smile and show your back when you’re done.
I don’t do any ass-kissing, because if those compliments are a genuine opinion of a writer, I pretty much tell every writer EXCEPT that person how much I love them/respect them/blah blah them. For example, out of my undergrad friend group of poets, I believe without an iota of self-pity that they are all better writers than I am, and I will tell everyone that except them (except for dan i guess who will read this – hi dan). If anything, I make sure not to mention their own work to the writers for fear that i will appear to be a babbling, creepily-obsessed fan.
oh nooooooo… no no no… please, god, no… [astonishing, really]
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1hZ_04ybaow
exactly
Yes.
Yes.
I felt high until I dreamt she ate my charred bones.
Hmmm… pretty sure I don’t use unrealistic superlatives. I just tell it like it is the best way I know how. And I don’t just say that’s great or whatever. I always try to provide specifics about why I’m into (or not into) something, even if it’s just a line or two. (Funny how almost no one seems to want to hear anything critical, only props.) Other times, I’m just happy for folks who are able to see projects through to the end, or who finally get published or get a great gig, that sorta thing. Ya know? Plus, I dunno if I can ever ‘efface the sexual shine from my eyes.’ I’m sexual being. That’s just the way it is. It doesn’t have to be threatening…
absolute truth? what’s that?
truth is the greatest offender.
First thing I do once I get out of bed in the morning, efface the sexual shine from my eyes.
You’ll never get the grrrls that way, man.
Just because…
http://www.knittingfactoryrecords.com/files/mp3s/fela-zombie.mp3
“[S]pecifics” are good, jesus – though I think you’re exactly right about how “almost no one […] want[s] to hear anything critical, only props”. (Compliment-fishing puts you in tricky position: tell the truth about what you liked, and risk seeming obediently to kiss ass, or resist the invitation, and lie-by-omission.)
I guess a useful, though not perfect, rule of thumb would be: if it feels like it’ll communicate unintended deviousness, don’t say it. (Better that your silence be misunderstood than something you said – in this case.)
By the way, the ‘shining gaze’ I mean is not one that evinces the inner light of a “sexual being”.
When I leave a comment on the internet, like right now, I am sincere in my desire to get the author of the post wicked stoked that someone cared enough about their post to comment on it.
Most of the time when I read something I like I don’t leave a comment, because I am afraid the author will think I’m a fucking tool that is trying to ride their dick. I entered a contest for Tao Lin and left two comments on is blog, so now I’m going to intentionally not comment on his blog for at least a few months so Tao/his readers won’t form negative opinions about me. Even though I enjoy your (Blake Butler’s) blog and like/own Scorch Atlas, I have never commented on anything you have ever written because I think you will think I’m a dick.
At the same time, I hope that when the author reads my comment, they will think ‘this bro seems chill’ or ‘this dude seems legit’. Don’t really expect this to lead to ‘real friendship’ where we share a basket of fries while ditching something important to our future, but want it to lead to ‘internet friendship’, like we leave comments on each other’s posts like ‘yesh’ ‘yus’ ‘dope’ ‘fag’ or ‘nice’, then play a game on ggpo or something and talk about music from the nineties in a semi-ironic but also earnest way.
This doesn’t qualify as ass-kissing, but I’m ashamed to admit that I once emailed . . . cough . . . Steve Almond . . . only because I thought, well, what the hell, maybe he’ll have something interesting to say. And the dick told me he was busy moving to California.
Talk about being back-slapped by someone whose writing you despise.
It kept Antigone around.
there are a loot of people out there who think proximity to greatness is the best way of becoming great themselves. and in some cases, the ‘imma OG’ mentality can follow people to the grave. but..
..when it comes to cajolery, i don’t think it ever amounts to much unless there’re business dealings afoot, which could involve publicity. in the past, i’ve “kissed another writer’s ass or falsely bestowed praise” to get a recommendation, or advice on a story i had written. but in retrospect, i now realize it was something i didn’t actually need to be doing.
i wonder how The Jackal responds to favor currying? probably with a look of flowing magma.
Oh, you’re into the Greek Way. I see. Well… I think I lean more Roman, though in the right company…
All the time. I’m rimming Dennis Cooper right now. And it’s working. He’s going to whip me when I’m done.
you seem chill and legit to me. i don’t think participation = asskissing by definition. earnest fun and ups is too quickly shit on, i think. everyone assumes the worst. thanks for being ++.
into the Greek Way […] lean more Roman
Yikes. Is that Floyd shine or Frampton shine?
Oh… sheeit. Guess I need to bone up on my Greek. Yes, and yes, though. I’m with you. I just wish everyone would chill out enough to realize we’re all in this together — we’re all the same, even — and the literary slice of the cultural pie is often such a tiny morsel.
I learned a long time ago when I used to think of myself as a poet that you have to have thick skin while at the same time staying open and being sensitive to everything that lives and breathes. Truth is beauty even when it’s ugly. Mirrors are most useful when clean. If you’re not pleasing everyone, then you’re probably doing something right. Blee blee, blah blah, blee blah…
It’s all good, yo. At least from where I sit.
And yeah… Nevermind…
Hands down Floyd. Shine on…
“shine on me”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDyDz8WeiM4
oh nooooooo… no no no… please, god, no… [astonishing, really]
exactly
Yes.
Yes.
I felt high until I dreamt she ate my charred bones.
This doesn’t qualify as ass-kissing, but I’m ashamed to admit that I once emailed . . . cough . . . Steve Almond . . . only because I thought, well, what the hell, maybe he’ll have something interesting to say. And the dick told me he was busy moving to California.
Talk about being back-slapped by someone whose writing you despise.
Hey, how does he taste today?
Hey, how does he taste today?
i often withhold criticism about a friend’s writing because i don’t want to hurt their feelings, which is sort of tacit ass-kissing
I hear you on that, but it kind of comes back to that adage, “If you can’t say anything nice…”. Certainly there is room to offer suggestions to a short story or novel by a friend without being a total jerk. Of course if you think it’s terrible, well, that’s a bit more tricky, but in many ways we kind of owe it to our friends, peers, workshop buds to let them know when it really stinks, help them to get better, yeah?
I think it’s complicated, Richard. Short story: a friend — someone I met online & I’ve known for a while & have long considered more friend than acquaintance — recently had a story published in a good lit mag. I read it & liked it & told him so & told him why, but I thought the ending could have/should have happened a few lines before the actual end. I wrote this as well & said why. It’s now been… nearly a month?… and I still haven’t heard back from him, even though I’ve tried to reach out & connect via multiple channels. I even “shared” his work with others on one of the social networks & yet I think I must have upset him, I dunno. Like I said above, it seems to me that most people don’t want to hear anything except, “Awesome, dood!” which doesn’t leave much room for authentic dialogue or connection, I say. I’m still kind of upset about this, but it’s outta my hands & I realize I’m not responsible for other people’s emotions. Still…
1. Funny you should mention this. I have a theory that c. 80% of all decently-written short stories can be improved by removing the last sentence.
2. When I was in college I gave someone a short story of mine to read. Two-thirds of the way through the story was one of the worst metaphors ever to appear on paper: “the fireman of his morality was wrestling with the hose of his emotions” or something deeply awful like that. She got to that line and couldn’t stop laughing. She was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. I improved, as a writer, by about 17.5%, while she rolled around on my dormitory floor in hysterics. She probably died obese and insane in the 90’s but I salute her frankness and I owe her tragic corpse a hug. I mean, I hope to fucking god I had the last laugh but…
Yeah, not nearly enough money in Writing to justify ass-kissing. On the other hand, my friends who are denizens of the lucre-splashing Big Ticket Art World all went to the same celebrity dentist to have their teeth pulled and their gums softened to maximize their Tribute Function
so…. he didnt take the time to answer an insincere email from someone who actually disliked his work, instead concentrating on the petty task of moving to another state?
you’re right man, what an ass…
he should have totally given you his time, because your getting a reply from a writer you dont actually like and whose work you have never actually supported in any meaningful way (like buying a book or something) is your god given right, yeah?
ASS
WORSHIP
PARTY
i often withhold criticism about a friend’s writing because i don’t want to hurt their feelings, which is sort of tacit ass-kissing
I hear you on that, but it kind of comes back to that adage, “If you can’t say anything nice…”. Certainly there is room to offer suggestions to a short story or novel by a friend without being a total jerk. Of course if you think it’s terrible, well, that’s a bit more tricky, but in many ways we kind of owe it to our friends, peers, workshop buds to let them know when it really stinks, help them to get better, yeah?
I think it’s complicated, Richard. Short story: a friend — someone I met online & I’ve known for a while & have long considered more friend than acquaintance — recently had a story published in a good lit mag. I read it & liked it & told him so & told him why, but I thought the ending could have/should have happened a few lines before the actual end. I wrote this as well & said why. It’s now been… nearly a month?… and I still haven’t heard back from him, even though I’ve tried to reach out & connect via multiple channels. I even “shared” his work with others on one of the social networks & yet I think I must have upset him, I dunno. Like I said above, it seems to me that most people don’t want to hear anything except, “Awesome, dood!” which doesn’t leave much room for authentic dialogue or connection, I say. I’m still kind of upset about this, but it’s outta my hands & I realize I’m not responsible for other people’s emotions. Still…
1. Funny you should mention this. I have a theory that c. 80% of all decently-written short stories can be improved by removing the last sentence.
2. When I was in college I gave someone a short story of mine to read. Two-thirds of the way through the story was one of the worst metaphors ever to appear on paper: “the fireman of his morality was wrestling with the hose of his emotions” or something deeply awful like that. She got to that line and couldn’t stop laughing. She was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. I improved, as a writer, by about 17.5%, while she rolled around on my dormitory floor in hysterics. She probably died obese and insane in the 90’s but I salute her frankness and I owe her tragic corpse a hug. I mean, I hope to fucking god I had the last laugh but…
I know what you mean, St. Augustine. I once heard Palahniuk read in draft form his now-infamous story about the intestines and the pool, and I felt the same way. He had this great line, something like… “and then my sister found out she was pregnant,” and this, after the brother in the story’s been masturbating in the pool and she goes swimming a lot. Stupid, yeah, whatever, but it was hilarious. The problem, for me, though, was he didn’t end the story right there. He wrapped it up with another paragraph, which I felt was unnecessary. So yeah… I hear you on #1. And #2 is a riot. Thanks for sharing! We should all share our best worst lines. Anyway, I just told your exquisite metaphor to a workmate. She’s still laughing. Oh yeah, and here’s to last laughs!
Yeah, not nearly enough money in Writing to justify ass-kissing. On the other hand, my friends who are denizens of the lucre-splashing Big Ticket Art World all went to the same celebrity dentist to have their teeth pulled and their gums softened to maximize their Tribute Function
so…. he didnt take the time to answer an insincere email from someone who actually disliked his work, instead concentrating on the petty task of moving to another state?
you’re right man, what an ass…
he should have totally given you his time, because your getting a reply from a writer you dont actually like and whose work you have never actually supported in any meaningful way (like buying a book or something) is your god given right, yeah?
(fuck, fuck… if one of my trolls finds out about that metaphor… )
[Mock-Troll-Fertilizer Troll-Repellent alert]
The fireman of your full disclosure is wrestling with the hose of your regret.
The pinched nozzle of your self-deprecation is concentrating the water of your integrity on the fire of your embarrassment.
The firetruck of your literary ambition is getting ticketed by the police chief of your superego. (The fine and points against the license of your id will be vacated by the traffic-court judge of that teacher who had a crush on you.]
Down the street of your crocodilian tears, kids are playing in the spray of the fireplug of your impacted metaphors.
(o.m.d.g…..)
Edit: the traffic-court judge of your memory of that teacher who had a crush on you.
ASS
WORSHIP
PARTY
ditto OMDG…
I know what you mean, St. Augustine. I once heard Palahniuk read in draft form his now-infamous story about the intestines and the pool, and I felt the same way. He had this great line, something like… “and then my sister found out she was pregnant,” and this, after the brother in the story’s been masturbating in the pool and she goes swimming a lot. Stupid, yeah, whatever, but it was hilarious. The problem, for me, though, was he didn’t end the story right there. He wrapped it up with another paragraph, which I felt was unnecessary. So yeah… I hear you on #1. And #2 is a riot. Thanks for sharing! We should all share our best worst lines. Anyway, I just told your exquisite metaphor to a workmate. She’s still laughing. Oh yeah, and here’s to last laughs!
(fuck, fuck… if one of my trolls finds out about that metaphor… )
[Mock-Troll-Fertilizer Troll-Repellent alert]
The fireman of your full disclosure is wrestling with the hose of your regret.
The pinched nozzle of your self-deprecation is concentrating the water of your integrity on the fire of your embarrassment.
The firetruck of your literary ambition is getting ticketed by the police chief of your superego. (The fine and points against the license of your id will be vacated by the traffic-court judge of that teacher who had a crush on you.]
Down the street of your crocodilian tears, kids are playing in the spray of the fireplug of your impacted metaphors.
(o.m.d.g…..)
Edit: the traffic-court judge of your memory of that teacher who had a crush on you.
ditto OMDG…
Umm… you don’t understand, Anonymosis.
1. I didn’t tell him I disliked his writing. Why would I tell him I disliked his writing and expect a kind response? You’re so silly, Anony.
(Then again, I didn’t tell him I liked his writing, either — that’s not in my character. So, I don’t know, maybe if I’d lied and said I liked his writing then he would’ve responded more kindly.)
2. When you send a writer a kind email asking a simple question: kind writers respond kindly. I’ve done this many times. Friendly people are friendly when friendly people email them. There are people on this very blog I’ve forged friendships with by email. When people email me, in capacity as editor of either the Excavation Project or the Gone Lawn Journal: I respond kindly as well. I happen to like it when people are nice.
3. How in the world would he know whether or not I ever bought a book of his? I didn’t tell him a word about any of the books I own.
4. He lived in the Boston area then; he lived in the Boston area afterward; he lives in the Boston area now. In other words: his response was a careless lie just to avoid being nice to a fellow Bostonian who sent him a nice email.
Any more misunderstandings I should clear up?
Just to add: I’ve met a couple other writers, in Boston, who’ve met him and came away thinking he was a jerk. …But I wanted to find out for myself. I’m a curious person by nature . . . sometimes it turns me into a fool and bites me in the ass, as illustrated above. In this case, as sometimes happens with me, my curiosity drove me to test my — and others’ — prejudices. I prefer to think of people as good rather than otherwise.
Of course, when people are consistently a jerk to me or others: it’s pretty hard for me to come to the conclusion that they’re actually not jerks.
Umm… you don’t understand, Anonymosis.
1. I didn’t tell him I disliked his writing. Why would I tell him I disliked his writing and expect a kind response? You’re so silly, Anony.
(Then again, I didn’t tell him I liked his writing, either — that’s not in my character. So, I don’t know, maybe if I’d lied and said I liked his writing then he would’ve responded more kindly.)
2. When you send a writer a kind email asking a simple question: kind writers respond kindly. I’ve done this many times. Friendly people are friendly when friendly people email them. There are people on this very blog I’ve forged friendships with by email. When people email me, in capacity as editor of either the Excavation Project or the Gone Lawn Journal: I respond kindly as well. I happen to like it when people are nice.
3. How in the world would he know whether or not I ever bought a book of his? I didn’t tell him a word about any of the books I own.
4. He lived in the Boston area then; he lived in the Boston area afterward; he lives in the Boston area now. In other words: his response was a careless lie just to avoid being nice to a fellow Bostonian who sent him a nice email.
Any more misunderstandings I should clear up?
Just to add: I’ve met a couple other writers, in Boston, who’ve met him and came away thinking he was a jerk. …But I wanted to find out for myself. I’m a curious person by nature . . . sometimes it turns me into a fool and bites me in the ass, as illustrated above. In this case, as sometimes happens with me, my curiosity drove me to test my — and others’ — prejudices. I prefer to think of people as good rather than otherwise.
Of course, when people are consistently a jerk to me or others: it’s pretty hard for me to come to the conclusion that they’re actually not jerks.
when i see writing i like i let the writer know i thought so. it used to be i wouldn’t do this because i didn’t want to intrude or because i didn’t want the writer to think i was playing for their attention or favors. but a friend of mine told me that every writer he ever met could probably use that little extra sign that it isn’t all silence and failure and now i try to send a note whenever i can. if someone responds or doesn’t respond to a note or if we strike up a ‘friendship’ doesn’t really matter to me because the gesture is the gesture.
when i see writing i like i let the writer know i thought so. it used to be i wouldn’t do this because i didn’t want to intrude or because i didn’t want the writer to think i was playing for their attention or favors. but a friend of mine told me that every writer he ever met could probably use that little extra sign that it isn’t all silence and failure and now i try to send a note whenever i can. if someone responds or doesn’t respond to a note or if we strike up a ‘friendship’ doesn’t really matter to me because the gesture is the gesture.
Nutella crepe.
Nutella crepe.
I just saw how this activity is proliferating on Facebook, especially on the pages of literary journals. So funny to see who gives a “thumbs up” or comments with a phrase containing the words, “I like” (there is actually a separate class in many MFA programs that teaches students to ass-kiss). The truth? Writers mostly hate each other, but we feel compelled to be nice in public. Great question by Blake – so relevant.