Sunday notebook

This is another grab-bag entry of miscellaneous topics and thoughts. I’m going to try and get in the habit of publishing these on a weekly or bi-weekly basis, as that seems doable in a way that won’t distract from any larger creative projects, namely the current novel, which I provide an update on below.

So, here we go.

I wrote a piece on self-publishing where I wondered aloud why it hadn’t been as disruptive in the literary world as say, Substack or Joe Rogan has been to traditional media and radio, respectively. In layman’s terms: why aren’t more novelists either building an audience online or, after they’ve reached a certain scale via traditional publishing, cutting out the middleman by selling directly to their fans? Around the same time, a better piece on the topic came out.

I highly recommend the Elle Griffin piece linked above. It’s an extensive investigation of the publishing world, made possible by an anti-trust case brought against two major publishers last year, which forced them to open their books and explain how they made money. Turns out, it’s mostly Bibles, The Lord of the Rings, and celebrity memoirs. (I’m only half-joking — read the piece for yourself.)

Griffin’s piece sparked a lot of debate around whether or not people do, in fact, buy books, and if there really is a market for thoughtful fiction today. (The answer to my above question, as to why the internet doesn’t seem to have changed the publishing world as much as its disrupted every other form of media, may simply be: there’s not enough money to make the juice worth the squeeze.)

Without getting lost in the details, I stand by my prediction (though maybe it’s only a hope) that self-publishing will prove to be a vital force in the literary arts, if only because I don’t see another way to displace the status quo.

Whatever one thinks of contemporary fiction, I don’t know anyone who would disagree with the statement that modern publishing has narrowed the aesthetic range of serious book-writing. Despite more people with college degrees in the world today than ever before, it’s basically impossible to imagine a book like Ulysses being published (or written) in 2024, despite the fact that it’s a cornerstone of any English degree. Simply put, modern publishing has proven incapable of publishing aesthetically challenging works, because it’s simply not designed to produce books that last, but instead relentlessly optimize for those that can sell right now.

Will self-publishing fix this? Sadly, I think greater forces stand in the way of us ever revitalizing the literary zenith of times past. But you have to take shots at the Death Star, and that means finding new X-Wings when all the others have crashed.

I’ve been using the Arc browser now for several weeks, and I really can’t over-emphasize how subtly but radically it has changed my relationship to the internet. I’m not one to care much about products of this sort or fawn over good design, but this is one I stumbled onto and feel like it deserves a bit of shine. 

In short, Arc makes being online feel less schizophrenic. It makes it feel like you’re working at an organized desk.

For those coming from Google Chrome, the adjustment is almost instantaneous, as are the benefits. There are some design bells and whistles, but it’s essentially a new layout for organizing your tabs in “spaces.” (In my case, I have a space for my day job, a space for my novel, and a personal space for additional writing projects, like this.) 

Arc doesn’t prevent you from wasting time — the impulse to scroll and screw off will always be there, and no tech product can ever prevent you from losing focus entirely — but it does make it easier to clean up your messes when you inevitably find yourself on a side quest, or twenty clicks deep down an irrelevant rabbit hole. 

The internet is amazing and can also drive you insane. Keeping your digital desk clean can remind of the former and slow your drift toward the later. (And yes, it’s free.)

I’ve been working on a novel for close to five years, which most people closest to me know, but that’s really all they know. I’d like to try being more public about these things, even to a small and intimate audience, because I think it will force me to make an honest appraisal of my process and progress.

Right now, I’m two weeks, or 80 or so pages, into what I hope will be the first *complete* standalone draft. Many of these pages have been written and re-written more than a dozen times, but only now will I have something where you can start on page one and get to the end. The document I’m working out of is 540 odd pages right now. I’m hopeful it’ll end up being close to 400, and that I’ll be done with this particular draft in mid July. Fingers crossed, and more updates soon.

H. and I had the pleasure of spending a weekend out at Serana in April. I’ll be honest: being out on 50+ pristine acres, walking around, drinking coffee and chatting with old friends, made it quite difficult to come back to New York.

For a variety of reasons, I couldn’t live on a farm, but being out there provided a perspective on what I actually miss about City Life (mostly having good bookstores and restaurants within walking distance). And it made me realize the things I could do without, including my beloved jazz shows.

A basic epiphany: What matters about being in the country isn’t what you can do but who you are while you’re there. This is true for basically anywhere, which is why it’s so silly to merely list off activities and ‘things you can do’ when it comes to judging different cities. Sure, the variety is nice, but you can only do one thing at a time, and most Tuesdays (and Mondays, and even Wednesdays and Thursdays) will be spent doing none of the things on your ‘list.’

Simply put, out in east Texas, the country version of me was easier to wake up than my typical, typically-agitated New York City self. All those wonderful jazz shows be damned.

More soon! And as always, thank you for reading.